


Dark Horse

by meonlyred



Series: The Skyfall Legacy [6]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fractured Alliance SPOILERS, GEMINI 16, Hurt/Comfort, Jonas Balkar - Freeform, Lana Beniko - Freeform, Senya Tirall - Freeform, Sexual Content, Sith Warrior - Freeform, Strong Language, Valkorion - Freeform, Vette - Freeform, Vinn Atrius - Freeform, use of alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-06-28 02:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15697881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meonlyred/pseuds/meonlyred
Summary: Rossa's relationship with Theron Shan takes a turn she never expected as she struggles to understands what was truth and lies. As Theron wars with himself for what he has to do to protect the one he loves most.Follows the ending of KotET to the conclusion of The Nathema Conspiracy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DARK HORSE  
> /ˈdärkˈˌhôrs/  
> noun  
> A candidate or competitor about whom little is known but who unexpectedly wins or succeeds.

Empress Rossa Skyfall, Theron rolled that thought around in his head. He had lived within the Republic all his life. Though a few worlds within that Republic had monarchies, democracy was the overarching standard of government within the Republic. Even if he was no longer employed by the SIS, he still saw himself as a citizen of the Republic. But the war with Zakuul made for strange days indeed and ultimately his loyalties lay with Rossa and the Alliance.

Empress, he thought again as she stood beside him on the bridge. He tried to imagine her in his mind's eye sitting on that throne. Zakuul at her feet, scores of people coming to bend a knee before her. He thought of himself among them; it was a little unnerving when he realized how okay he was with that thought. She might not want it but she wouldn't be a bad ruler. A benevolent and fair empress; born from the Republic, raised by the Jedi, and ascended to royalty. Not a bad story to tell. They just needed to get her to that throne. Once there she had to take control of the crazed Eternal Fleets and halt the rampage through half the galaxy. But what would she do with the throne once she had it? 

Senya seemed to think they would be crowning a new ruler for Zakuul. Theron was not so sure Rossa would accept it if offered. She was not without a sense of duty but he had long ago learned that no one could make Rossa do anything she didn't want to do.

Leadership did seem to come effortlessly to her. It was apparent as she spoke to their comrades on the bridge of the Gravestone. Rallied them to the fight to come, the last battle that would either lead to their victory or the destruction of everything they knew. However, being a commander of a military initiative was much different than being the ruler of a people.

Rossa turned away, heading off the bridge. Once again she was going to throw herself at danger. It was her conviction, her duty. It was what her years of training had taught her; to protect, to defend selflessly if necessary at the cost of her own life. She was going to take the Eternal Throne, to take it by the horns and steer it so that billions wouldn't die.

The next time he saw her she might be an empress. His empress.

Theron fell in step behind her. For weeks now, maybe months- dammit, who was he even kidding anymore- for years there was something he had been yearning to tell to Rossa. Yet there had always been something that had stopped him. Foolish excuses that he made up to keep his feelings at arm's length. An unfair and stubborn denial on his part.

Rossa noticed him following and paused, turning to face him.

That declaration had hung in the air between them for too long. Since the moment they had met on Carrick Station part of him had known of its inevitability. It had taken him too long to admit it. Now she stood before him patiently waiting to hear him out as if time wasn't of the essence. Perhaps it was because she could tell what it was costing him to say what he needed to.

Part of it was shame. That he hadn't been freer with his feelings; that he hadn't said anything sooner like she deserved. Seeing her walk off the bridge of the Gravestone he knew that he would not be able to live with himself if he waited one more moment to tell her.

The words flooded his mind, wanting to scream past his tongue. To connect with her. To give himself completely to her.

Taking a breath he took the dive; “No matter what happens down there; I just wanted you to know, I love you.”

There it was. The admittance he never imagined him saying to anyone. Yet it was Rossa, it had always been her. It would always be her.

There was no shock or mirth, only her nod of tender acceptance as if she already knew and had just been waiting for him to be ready, “I love you too, Theron.”

That didn’t stop the grin that swept across his face as he pulled her into his embrace. Nor did he fail to see her own smile as she met him halfway to a kiss. Her hands circled around his back under his jacket as his hand cradled the base of her neck.

Pulling away ever so slightly he touched his forehead to hers, “Be safe and come back to me.”

She nodded shortly, “I promise.”

Leaving him standing at the bridge’s door she followed the deck toward the direction Senya and Arcann had gone. She gave him one last look over her shoulder as she disappeared from view.

* * *

Everything was taken from her. Her life, her body, her mind- she didn't even know who she was- yet she had somehow held on to existence. It was a thread that might as well have been made of gossamer, but it had been just enough for her to catch and begin to pull herself back from nothing. 

A name came first: roses in the falling sky. Her name: Rossa Skyfall.

After that, reclaiming herself had begun a snowball effect. The more she reached through the darkness the more of herself she found and pieced back together. She was a Jedi, but more than that a commander of a resistance, an alliance. Half a lifetime of war and death and battle. But it had not always been bloodshed. There was peace and laughter and happiness. Memories coalesced; she remembered faces, people, sisters, friends, and a lover.

_I just want you to know, I love you,_ spoke a voice that coaxed her back to herself. She remembered nights with a man holding, making love to her. Unable to speak the words aloud, he told her how much he loved her with his touch. Until finality had inspired him. Hearing those words for the first time had made her feel so light on her feet. Three words that sang a song around her heart.

Another name: Theron Shan. Her love. A man born in secrecy, who existed in shadows yet possessed a profound heart. Determined by nature, he never accepted anything but perfection from himself. A good man despite how hard he pushed himself. Adventurous and quick witted. Someone who had been able to match her step for step.

They were not so different, him and her; they had walked similar lives for a time. Sent away from their families to be part of more than just themselves. They had met and parted only to meet again as if the Force could not let them go. Became comrades, then lovers like it had always been their destiny.

Another name came to mind: Valkorion. Her most intimate foe and the one to blame for her current state of limbo. He had taken her from her life thrice now. A parasite that had attached itself to the galaxy and had started a series of events that would eventually bring Theron and her together in a shared case. Theron’s ancestor, Revan, had tried and failed to kill Valkorion once and for all. That mantle had fallen to her with a prophecy 300 years in the making that she had been told only she could wear. It would end when she “held his power in her hands.”

Twice now she had struck him down. And twice his spirit endured. Now Valkorion sought to take her as his new body. Carve her out of herself so he could wear it for himself.

The thought of him behind her face and ruling the galaxy sickened and horrified her. What would her sisters do? What of Lana and her other dear friends? What of Theron? What would it do to him to see her and know it was not her but a monster?

Rossa pushed past those thoughts. Focused on the good she had experienced. She thought of Theron. Of how much she cared for him. Replaying him saying he loved her again and again. She gathered that memory as well as many more and used them as a spear to punch through the darkness straight to where Valkorion had attached himself to her shattered mind.

She was not alone in her fight against Valkorion. Arcann lent his power to hers. Once an enemy, now an ally. Senya too. Even Vaylin helped in the end.

_Love can save you_ , Rossa had read that once in a old Jedi text. She had found the tome in the restricted section in the Jedi library on Dantooine. Not passion or anger. Nor peace or serenity. Love was her inspiration and her shield.

_“Kneel before the dragon of Zakuul!”_ She roared at him.

Valkorion had named her his insect. Belittled and manipulated her every chance he could. The fool never realized until she made her killing blow that it was her, not him, who was a true dragon. A dragon made of gold and light and the strength of stars. The Force was hers to command and in this place made up of her mind, she ruled.

Using nearly every ounce of her will she had left, she banished Valkorion to true death, once and for all. His death sent a ripple through the Force like a mountain collapsing into an ocean.

Consciousness came back like a landslide as she regained her mind and body. Spilling from her seat on the Eternal Throne she fell to the floor of the dais, her cheek colliding hard on the cold marble. Sharp pain told her she would probably have a bruise there in the morning but it also meant she was alive. It made the pain an oddly welcome discomfort. She gasped air and tried to rise on weary arms.

Senya was by her side in an instant helping her to her feet. Her and her son confirmed what Rossa had done. Truly and finally killed the entity who had originally been named Tenebrae who called himself Valkorion, Vitiate, and most likely dozens of other forms.

“The galaxy is ready to meet the new empress,” Senya said as she opened a galactic wide channel.

Rossa turned to regard the seat of power. There she would have absolute authority to shape the galaxy in the image of peace she wanted. Zakuul’s power and wealth could not be matched by the Republic and Empire combined. Here she could instigate real change in the galaxy.

The cost though. How long until she would see herself as the only person fit to rule? Her body might not have been hollowed out to hold Valkorion but how soon until she was no better than him?

She shook her head, she had a better idea.

Rossa stood on shaking knees and declared; “I am no Empress.”

* * *

As the elevator doors to the Eternal Throne room opened, Theron was greeted by the ionized smell of blaster fire and lightsaber that still marked the air. With Lana at his side he walked down the long approach to the throne. If it wasn’t for the bodies of Zakuulan Knights and burnt out carcasses of skytroopers littering the floor, the throne room would have been a sight to behold. Standing here with Zakuul far below and the endless sea of stars surrounding the snow globe shaped room, it wouldn't have been hard to fancy oneself a god. In the center, lined in gold was the towering throne; the once seat of power of Valkorion, then Arcann and later Vaylin. Now Rossa sat on there, looking as pretty as Theron knew she would be. At her side Senya and Arcann flanked her.

Theron and Lana picked their way through the carnage of battle. As they approached Rossa stood and stepped down off the dais to meet them. The golden light that illuminated the throne cast a corona crown on her pale hair. Dressed in her favorite colors of soft creams and rich browns all trimmed with gold accents she looked like she belonged here. Like the Eternal Throne had been made for her. Yet she did not greet him as Zakuul’s new Empress, but the liberator to a democratic age for the former empire. A peacemaker.

Theron forgot every clever quip he had been thinking of on his way up here. Instead all he could do was grin up at her like a fool. Stars, he loved her. Knowing that she felt the same, scared and excited him like nothing he had ever felt before.

Meeting his gaze, her eyes went soft as they had been a few hours ago when she told him she loved him. The corners of her lips pulled giving him a small private smile. Elegant, composed, and prim, more like a gentlelady of Alderaan than a Jedi. A clever disguise that hid her spunky attitude and sharp tongue.

She looked as if she was about to say something to him, then stopped to say something else, “I need the Spire on lockdown. Send all available troops to secure the area. We can't have someone with delusions of power trying to grab the throne in this weakened moment.”

Rossa was business first. Saresh and SCORPIO’s powerplays weren't going to be soon forgotten.

Theron nodded, “You got it.”

The way her lips pressed into a wry smile was his first clue she was trying of cover up something. His grin faded a little on the edges as he searched her eyes suddenly noticing how bloodshot they were.

Rossa placed her hand on his arm suspiciously like she was trying to steady herself as she turned to Senya, “I will need names of Zakuulan officials, people of upstanding influence who might be willing to hold government seats. Make it clear that we are here to help them and not interfere with however they wish to be represented.”

Senya nodded deeply, “As you wish.”

Turning back to him, he now noticed how ashen she was and the subtle tremble of her hands. In a soft whisper she told him as she leaned closer, “I need to get out of here.”

Something happened in his absence, more than just holding off an assault of skytroopers.

_Valkorion_ , his mind hissed the name. Who else could torment Rossa like this? There had been a moment earlier on the Gravestone where Lana had nearly collapsed. She told him that Valkorion was gone. She claimed she had felt his ghost truly die and it had sent a ripple through the Force. Was Rossa the one who killed him finally? For the third time? Had the battle taken this much out of her?

“Anything you want,” he promised quietly.

With no outlet for his anger; tension ran down his arms making him wish he had gotten at least one good hit on that monster. Not for the dark shadow the emperor had cast on his bloodline. Theron really couldn't care less about his ancestor. No, he wanted revenge for Rossa for having to step up and be the one who had to do what Revan had failed to do.

Theron looked over at Lana, whose glowing yellow eyes darted between them. She nodded gravely, “We have it from here, Commander.”

The woman who could have been empress simply turned and marched away from the throne.

For the entire shuttle trip from the Spire back to the Gravestone Rossa stared out the window in uncharacteristic silence. Juggling between keeping his eyes on the controls and glancing over at her, Theron was increasingly concerned. She hadn't offered to explain the state he had found her in when he and Lana had arrived at the throne room.

Exiting the shuttle onto the Gravestone’s flight deck they were greeted by Koth’s crew. There were howls and cheers with enthusiastic pats on Rossa's back as they congratulated their Commander. Theron couldn’t fault them for their excitement. It had been a hard won victory. Finally true freedom.

Rossa gave them her best smile. Shaking their hands and thanking them by name for the roles they played. But there were cracks forming in her perfect poise. She was too polite to tell them she needed her own space.

Theron stepped in to give her an excuse to leave early: an important mission debriefing he needed to share with her. It earned him a knowing look from Tora, who gave a sharp cackle but fortunately she kept her comments to herself.

Theron didn't particularity care what it looked like or what gossip was spread behind their backs. They might not have been open about their relationship but they certainly weren't bothering to hide it from those around them. And right now his only concern was her mental state.

Making their way to Rossa's quarters on the ship, she stayed close to his orbit. Particularly leaning on him as they walked the deck.

Her quarters were located on the weapons deck not far from the bridge. A large window gave them the view of the blackness of space. And best of all, it was quiet. Only the distant hum of the ship’s massive engines.

Locking the door behind them Theron turned to Rossa.

“What happened? Are you alright,” his words died on his lips when he looked at her.

Rossa’s hands were over her mouth and with a short muffled sob she went to her knees. Theron scrambled, barely able to catch her to ease her drop to the floor. Panicked he ran his hands down her ribs and combed them over her hair looking for injuries. No blood, some bruises, nothing that looked life threatening.

“Rossa please, talk to me,” his words came out tight as he cradled the sides of her head, brushing his hands over to smooth down her soft hair.

Immediately his thoughts went to Valkorion. That leech that just wouldn't leave them alone. His sporadic appearances never failed but to leave her irked. Had the son of a bitch somehow returned? Had the feeling of his death Lana had sensed just been another one of his tricks?

Rossa didn't quite weep just trembled, tangled in his arms.

“Too close,” he was barely sure he heard her breathe out the words into his shirt.

“What was too close?”

Gently she pulled away from him just enough so she could look him in the eyes. Her expression was as solemn as he had ever seen her.

Sunshine; that had always been the best way to describe her. It was the nickname her father had given her and though he was a prick, it was the one thing Enoch Skyfall was not wrong about. Even when things had been at their darkest she had been like a dawn that could chase away the shadows. But not right now. Her gloom was unmistakable. She looked lost and pained as though years had been stacked on her shoulders. Like a sun going dim.

Rossa’s fingertips were featherlight as she touched his face, like she was afraid he would crumble into ash. Her eyes searched his features. He took her hand and held it. Giving it a firm squeeze.

“I'm here,” he tried to reassure her. “What happened?”

“Theron, I lost,” she breathed. “Just for a moment, Valkorion won. This whole time he had intended on killing me and using my body as his new vessel. I was too arrogant. I thought I was strong enough to push him out by myself this time.”

Confused he asked, “This time?”

“The Emperor's Fortress,” she paused and gave him an inquisitive look as he shook his head still not understanding what she was referring to. “My dossier from when you recruited me for the Korriban mission. Did it not mention the Emperor's Fortress operation?”

Despite the six years from then and now, he still remembered reading her dossier. He must have read it a dozen times. Something between those lines had kept drawing him back. It was what made him put forth her name to Colonel Darok as leader of their strike team.

It was the Emperor's Fortress operation that had been the one blemish on an incredible record. Yet she and her crew had managed to escape without a single casualty. What an odd thing to bring up. It was the first time she had encountered the Emperor face to face. But he didn't completely understand the connection to what just happened on Zakuul.

“It did. It stated that you, your crew, and three Jedi Masters infiltrated the space station,” Theron recalled. “The entire strike team was captured and the three Jedi who had accompanied you were corrupted by Vitiate and fell to the Dark Side,” he recalled.

If possible she looked like she deflated even more. She whispered, “They covered it up. The Council must have covered it up.”

Theron's relationship with the Jedi was complicated. He was a living testimony of what the Grand Master was willing to hide for reputation. He had none of the wistful misconceptions the rest of the Republic held about the Jedi. However, he hadn't expected Rossa's career to harbor secrets that the Jedi would hide. And no secrets that the SIS wouldn’t have found.

“It wasn’t three Jedi who fell to the Dark Side. It was four,” she said flatly.

Her padawan Kira? No. His lips parted as he looked at his lover with a new terrible understanding. No, not Kira. Rossa. Vitiate’s taunts towards Rossa on Ziost made perfect, horrifying sense suddenly.

With him still reeling, she continued, “Sending Master Surro back to Tython had been an easy choice. I knew exactly what she had been through. Vitiate stripped me of everything I was and replaced me with a creature of cruelty and hatred. I was only able to escape his grasp because Master Orgus’ ghost gave me an inch to slip through. Time made that wound a scar. But sometimes I still see her, that woman that I was. Terrible and cruel.

“I thought I would be powerful enough this time. I thought with the help of that holocron from Nathema it wouldn't happen again.”

He was at a loss for words. He knew Valkorion’s presence had been a burden on her but not like this. She had been his puppet and he had sought to make her one again.

Even with all his training and every weapon at his disposal, Theron was nothing against a Force Ghost. For months now he had been helpless as he watched Rossa struggle with the monster that had tormented her for years. It had been maddening. He had never liked being reminded how blind to the Force he was. But to now understand it wasn't the first time she had to deal with his intrusion into her very being. Not just a nemesis but an aduser.

How utterly useless he had been to help and protect her.

They remained sitting on the floor, Rossa leaned against him, eyes staring into the distance. Her silence might as well have been weeping. Theron did the only thing he could, held her close, trying to be something solid for her to cling to. His fingers combed her hair that had fallen loose as he angrily swore to himself nothing would ever get this close to her again. As long as he could still draw breath, he would do whatever it took to protect her.


	2. Chapter 2

Ever since Theron had come to Odessen he had found himself staying in Rossa’s quarters more than his own room. As weeks went by he had begun to settle himself in, moving most of his personal effects that he used on a daily basis into her armoire. Now that his toothbrush was in her bathroom, Theron guessed he could officially say they were living together: dating. It was surprising how easily they became accustomed to a daily routine together.

Theron smiled to himself, surprising and pleasant.

It had been months since the Eternal Alliance seized control over the Zakuulan throne and the fleet. And for the first time in years things had settled into a-dare he say-mundane day to day. Arcann and Vaylin’s looming threat of unpredictable destruction were finally past. There was still much work to do but now it was mostly clean up. Their smugglers had became supply runners to worlds devastated by the war. Troops were deployed for security instead of on incursions. It was a merciful change from the last several war torn years.

With a flop Theron settled into his chair and threw his legs up onto the desk as he booted up the computer console in Rossa's room. The monitor flickered to life as he sipped his caf. It was early, only an hour after dawn. Rossa was still meditating but he was eager to get some work done.

While the galaxy might still be licking their wounds, Lana and Theron knew their respective former governments well enough to know that wouldn’t last forever. Odessen’s isolation might have given them an advantage against Zakuul. Now it was proving to be somewhat of an hindrance. They were off the beaten path compared to port planets along major hyperlanes like the Hydian Way and Corellian Run, which had a wealth of information coming in and out thanks to the thousands of ships that passed through. Out here they couldn’t count on getting info from careless cantina gossip and tracking ship numbers and movements through the ports. Lana had deployed some of her agents out in the wider galaxy to make sure they wouldn’t be in the dark about the Republic and Imperial movements. Meanwhile, Theron still had several underworld contacts, for better or worse.

The holocomm on Rossa’s desk gave a soft chime for the incoming call and Theron braced for the berating he knew he was about to get. Teff’ith never made anything easy for him.

Her holo-image formed in miniature blue, arms crossed and a deep scowl, “Thought done with you. Still stupid.”

“Why change now?” he said with a hint of amusement.

“No, you no understand,” she seemed in more of a huff than usual. “Human man come talking about you and friends.”

“Did you get a name?”

After years she had sent him a message out of the blue saying there was something urgent she needed to talk to him about. Knowing Teff’ith it would have to be extremely important for her to contact him. She never had a very high opinion of him. But he suspected that their mutual respect for Master Zho was the only reason she didn’t block him completely.

“Listen,” she lowered her voice and looked around nervously. “Order of Zilpog, Zilfrog, whatever. Stupid name. Man in fancy armor been around. Looking for people who don’t like you. They know things about your Alliance. Know things about your mate, the Jedi. They want her dead.”

Theron almost spit his caf across the console. He knew for a fact he had never told Teff’ith anything about Rossa, let alone they were together. So how in the spacing-fuck did she come to that conclusion?

He kicked his legs off the desk and sat up in the chair, “What the hell did you say?”

She paused to think for a moment, not really answering his question, “Zildrog, Order of Zildrog. That their name.”

“Teff’ith, what do they know about Rossa? What about the Alliance?” his blood was running cold.

She struggled exasperated, “Don’t know. Maybe a lot? Maybe everything? They talk about how cruel and not caring Jedi woman is. How she let people die. Told how she wouldn’t let you save Zakuul red haired lady in escape pod.” She had to be referring to Malita Tal; not accurate to how it went down, but the result was the same. “How she stole all Zakuul gold and is choosing who get it back. How she recruit traitors, terrorists, murderers. They say she mad; that she believed Sith Emperor controlled her, made her do evil things.” That had been a private conversation between them. One that he knew for a fact no one had been eavesdropping on. “They looking for people that hate her. Hate you too. So we call you, warn you. You owe us favor now.”

With that she disconnected the call, leaving Theron slumped in the chair, mind reeling. Whoever they were, naming themselves after a mythological dragon god; probably meant they were at least somehow affiliated with someone from Zakuul. What was clear was that they were being spied on without any of them realizing. It wouldn’t be so disconcerting if him and Lana, both, hadn’t taken great lengths to ensure exactly that wouldn’t happen.

A delicate hand on his shoulder made him jump. He had been so lost in thought he hadn’t even heard the door open.

He followed the arm up to Rossa’s smiling but worried face, “You okay? I said your name a couple times.”

Taking her hand Theron swiveled his chair around to face her, “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Tell me,” she said, running her thumb across his fingers.

He started to, but stopped. The Alliance had a major leak. There was no telling where it was coming from. Was their room bugged? The entire base? Or their transmissions? As far as he knew at this point, Teff’ith’s warning may have even been intercepted. He needed to get this under control and fast. Telling Rossa anything at this moment would probably not help them and might even make it harder to find those responsible.

Theron was taking too long to answer and Rossa never liked being ignored by anyone. Even he would not get a pass. She slid herself onto his lap to be face to face with him. Normally he liked her being on top of him but right now he felt nothing but guilt as his arms went around her waist and he lied to her.

“I was just worried about how low our resources are getting. It’s not critical yet but we’re not far off.” Wow, he hated how easy that was.

“I know. Being big galactic heroes never really paid the bills like it use to.” She was trying to joke to lighten his mood, but he barely managed to give her a smile and not scan the room wondering if someone was watching.

It must have been clear to her his mood wasn't changing. She gave him a sidelong smile with a knitted brow, “Will you come have breakfast with me? We can talk and try to figure something out.”

Giving her a light pat on her thigh, he said, “Head on up, I'll be there in a minute. There are just a few messages I need to send first.”

Thankfully she accepted that and give him a quick kiss on the lips, “I'll order you something to eat. Be quick or it will be cold by the time you get up there. If Koth doesn't eat it first.”

That he couldn't help but smile at, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she stood and headed out.

Theron watched her leave and tried to figure out what he was going to do. Rossa was their Commander, she needed to know about this new hidden threat. But more than that, she was the most important person in the galaxy to him. He had to tell her. As soon as he figured out how without risking their enemies going to ground.

* * *

Rossa blinked, bewildered. She was almost sure she didn't hear Theron right as he stormed out of the war room.

Lana’s transmission from Iokath had gone from bad to worse in nearly every possible way. To call their first trip to the mechanical world of Iokath unpleasant would have been a wild understatement. Part of her wished she could just forget about that world and leave it behind but the superweapon there couldn't be ignored. So she had sent Lana and a small team to scout it out. That is when they had run into both the Republic and Empire and a skirmish had ensued.

Light years away back on Odessen, Rossa did the only thing she could think of to try to get out in front of this incident before all out war was unleashed again. She had ordered Theron to contact Empress Acina and Supreme-Commander Jace Malcom to try and broker some kind of ceasefire. That is when Theron laid down a new revelation about the Supreme-Commander that she would have never guessed.

“Your father?” Rossa said bewildered as she turned to chase after Theron as he left the war room.

Stopping on his heels and spun to face her. His aggravation was apparent, “I didn't think it would ever be important enough to tell you.”

He was right in a way, she had never felt like she was owed the knowledge of who his parents were. Finding out that Satele was his mother had been an accident of timing. After Tython was reclaimed she had found Theron in Carrick Station’s cantina spying on Satele’s location to make sure she hadn't been at the Jedi Temple when it had fallen to the Empire. His remarks about the Jedi Order and its tenets had dripped with an old anger that had dulled into exasperation. One that she couldn't entirely disagree with.

To press Theron further to find out if he knew who his father was had seemed like poking an old wound of his. She had never brought up her own parents to him but then neither of them were high ranking personnel within the Republic. Her shock was from realizing just how connected she already was to his family. She knew both of his parents since long before she met him. Satele was, of course, her Grand Master whom had given her the rank of Knight, Master, and finally Battlemaster. As for Jace Malcom, they had first been introduced when he was still a colonel on Alderaan. They had worked together again a little over a year later during the aftermath of the Makeb crisis. By that time he had been promoted to Supreme Commander. Jace’s fond comments about Satele now shone in a completely different light.

“I'm sorry,” was all she could manage.

He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Don't worry about it . There is no way you could have known. Satele didn't bother to tell anyone who my father was, not even Jace.”

Jace didn't know about his own son? That also surprised her. Rossa didn’t dare guess the Grand Master's motives. At best she could only speculate. What she did know was from her own experiences as a Jedi. Theron had also been raised as one by his Master, Zho, but it had eventually become undeniable Theron had no connection to the Force. Since further Jedi training was forbidden once a padawan was expelled from the Order some children were known to stay with the academy to finish their formal academic education and possibly become staff members serving the Temple. Others would decide to rejoin their families. Theron would have no longer been bound by the Jedi tenets. He could have been introduced to his father, who could have cared for him the rest of his childhood.

Had Satele not at least kept tabs on her son’s progress and known Theron wasn't Force Sensitive? With the Jedi’s rules against attachments Rossa could understand keeping her pregnancy a secret but why hadn’t she told Jace? Satele would not have been able to raise Theron without risking her reputation or her position with the Jedi, but Jace would not have been under such restrictions.

For what little time they had actually worked together, Rossa thought highly of Jace. He was a stern but honorable man. She could scarcely imagine a reason why he wouldn't have made a good father. There had to be more to this story than Rossa was privy to but since it was an aggravating subject to Theron she hadn’t wanted to press.

Unfortunately, both personally and politically Theron’s parentage had become a subject they couldn’t continue to ignore.  

“Does the Supreme-Commander know about you now?”

Theron gave a tired sigh, “Yeah, we met during an operation shortly before I met you. He figured it out pretty quickly. But we haven’t spoken since I came here. He was less than thrilled that I left the Republic.”

She shook her head and laid her hand on his forearm, “I don't know what to say.”

“Yeah, me either,” Theron said.

She took his hand, carding her fingers in his. Years ago they had worked with Satele on Yavin IV; it had been awkward but manageable. This time it might be worse depending on the Republic’s intentions with Iokath. If she didn't handle this just right, the Eternal Alliance might make an enemy out of the Republic or Empire, or even worse: both. Regardless of the estrangement between Theron and Jace, Rossa did not want to be responsible for turning a father and son against each other in war.

“I can go to Iokath by myself. Lana and I can take care of this if you don't want to have to deal with your father.”

“What? No! I'm going. I almost lost you once on that shit hole of a planet,” he squeezed her hand hard.

“Theron…”

“I can handle my parents if it means being at your side,” he pulled her close.

She closed her eyes as she laid her head on his shoulder. By the Stars, she felt the same. Everything seemed achievable when he was by her side.

If the Jedi called her back she would politely but firmly refuse. She couldn't go back, not just because of Theron; all of this. She didn't resent the Jedi for taking her as a child but she wished she had experienced more of life than their narrow view of the galaxy and its people. Every moment she had resided within the Jedi Temple on Tython she felt distant to the people of the galaxy. She needed that personal connection. To grow roots with the people she had sworn to protect.

She would always carry the values of duty and honor they had taught her but she was no longer the Battlemaster of the Jedi Order. She was the Commander of the Eternal Alliance. This is where she wanted to be. This is where she could help the most. 

* * *

Jace felt more boostered than he had in years. This was the first major win for the Republic in too long. The Empire was again leaderless and his son had convinced the Alliance Commander to support to the Republic. It was the ideal outcome he had hoped for.

Preparations had been made if it became apparent Master Rossa had fallen to the Dark Side like some in the Republic believed she had. Not since Revan had split from the Jedi to war against the Mandalorians had a Jedi led their own personal army, independent of the Republic. And he had very nearly wiped out the Republic three centuries ago.

Even more disconcerting; Master Rossa hadn't just recruited Republic personnel but also several Imps including Sith and known criminal elements. Hell, the former Minister of Sith Intelligence was her right hand. It had leant weight to the assumption she had turned against the Republic. How else could a Jedi keep company among those kind of people?

To compound matters, with their discovery of the superweapon on Iokath, the Eternal Alliance had become a threat that the Republic and its Supreme Commander could no longer ignore. He had come here ready to take whatever measures necessary to stop the Empire, secure the weapon, and ensure that the Eternal Alliance didn't get in their way. Luckily measures against the Alliance hadn’t been necessary.

Those concerns, as dangerous as they were, had came second to Jace’s personal stake in this campaign which had weighed heaviest on his mind. Master Rossa had somehow convinced his son to join her crusade. Though he had been appalled by Theron’s choice to run off to join the Eternal Alliance, Jace had taken no pleasure in the thought that he might have to do battle against his own son today.

Much of their relationship hadn't been what he had expected. Hell, seven years ago he didn't even know he had a son. Not until Operation End Game where they had been first introduced. It was Theron’s last name that had caught his attention in the intelligence report. When he had mentioned the name to SIS Director Trant, he had straight up told him that Theron was Satele’s secret son. Theron’s age and knowing Satele as well as he did gave Jace little doubt, but it was when they met face to face Jace knew for certain. A son who had become quite the accomplished field agent within the SIS using his skill and wit and not his family's connection to propel himself in life. Jace had been proud.

Looking back he wasn't entirely sure what he had expected from Theron when he revealed his parentage. At that point Theron had existed almost thirty years without him; he had been quick to remind Jace of that. Going as far as to flat out refuse to acknowledge him as his father. Declaring that the departed Master Zho, whom did not have any blood relation, had raised him and was therefore his father. In the months that followed their relationship had improved marginally. Jace had been more than happy to take what he could get. That was until Theron had up and quit the SIS with little explanation. Today was the first time they had spoken since their last heated exchange.

Jace’s concern was not only for Theron’s sake but also Master Rossa. He remembered her from many years ago; she had been charming and lovely. A pillar of the Jedi Order. It had been just as shocking to find out that she not only had joined the Alliance too but was their leader. She had always seemed so loyal to the Republic to make such a rash decision. Jace couldn't help but admit he compared her to Satele when she was her age. The rising star of the Jedi Order. She had single handedly nearly won the war against the Empire when she had struck down the Sith Emperor. Had it not been for Zakuul, Rossa probably would have been on the Jedi Council by now.

Even if Zakuul’s mad Emperor was after her, Rossa could have returned to the Republic and lead the Jedi just as Satele had. Jace would have made sure she had the full backing of all Republic military.

Jace turned back to the window where he could see where Rossa had stepped out to get some air. Iokath’s ghost city skyline framed behind her. Theron was with her; they were talking, his son was smiling. Jace blinked a bit surprised. While he had to admit his relationship with Theron was extremely limited, he could safely say he had never seen Theron smile at anyone like that. The years had seemed to melt off his shoulders, he looked happy, contented. Almost like a man in love- Jace watched Theron slide his arm around Master Rossa's waist, pull her close to give her a long, lingering kiss. Suddenly, several of his son’s recent actions came into perfect perspective. 

* * *

Theron pulled back from the kiss. Rossa’s eyes stayed closed for a moment as she smiled and tasted her lips. As if she wasn't bruised from fighting all morning nor that she spent hours in a medbay bed unconscious. Guilt twinged on his heart. She had no reason to suspect he had been the cause of her being in that medbay.

It was shameful that he carried on with her like he wasn’t moving behind her back to make Vinn Atrius trust him. But Rossa was clever, she would have noticed a sudden shift in his distance towards her with no explanation. At least now he could use a search for a traitor as an excuse to stay busy and away from her for his own sanity. In the meantime, he would give her every bit of love and joy she deserved before he showed his hand.

Rossa’s eyes fluttered open, “It's almost worth a medbay visit if this is how you kiss me afterwards.”

His hand went to cupping the side of her neck so his thumb could trace her jawline, “Just returning the favor. I think when we first met there wasn't a single time that you kissed me that I wasn't covered in bruises.”

The sensuous smile she gave him was a reminder of the intimacy they had shared and the love she had for him. As she pulled away to go back inside, her hand trailed down his arm lingering on his fingers before pulling away. He had half a mind to catch her hand to pull her back to him and steal another kiss.

She gave him a teasing wink over her shoulder as she left, “Then when we get home, you'll have to kiss away some more bruises of mine. To make it even, of course.”

Theron did not even try to be subtle as he admired her figure as she disappeared back inside. For his benefit she put an extra sway in her hips. Now he really couldn't wait to get off this accursed planet. The trip back to Odessen would take several hours. Maybe they could set their shuttle on autopilot. It was cramped but if he was in the pilot seat and she was on top...

“So,” Jace announced his presence and Theron might as well have dived into a tub of ice water. His father came to lean his elbows against the railing next to him, “Master Rossa and you are...”

Before he could continue Theron cut him off, “Don’t. Do not go there.”

There were several things that Theron never wanted to discuss with his father. His relationship with Rossa was right up there at the top of that list.

Theron should have thought, should have remembered, five years ago Rossa and he had been far more discreet about their relationship. Sure, they had not openly declared they were together. But he no longer felt the need to be sly about going to her room every night. Here they were again under the eye of the Republic and they had forgotten that Jedi weren’t supposed to be kissing spies on balconies. Too fucking late to pretend now.

Jace was silent for a long moment. Most likely trying to gauge how far to push him, “Is she the reason you left the SIS? Left the Republic?”

Theron shot Jace a glare. The larger man was giving him the scarred side of his face as he kept staring straight ahead like they were talking about the weather. Anything else but his romantic relationship with a Jedi. The irony was not lost on Theron.

Heaving out a sigh Theron finally said, “In part, I guess. There were other reasons. But yes, she was one of the reasons. And you are doing a bad job at not discussing this.”

Jace seemed to ignore him and hammer on through with what he wanted to say, “You know we worked together a few times. Master Rossa and I. On Alderran and Makeb. I was there when she got her Cross of Glory. She was a credit to the Republic. As were you. Losing both of you to the Eternal Alliance was a blow to the Republic.”

“The Eternal Alliance isn't an enemy of the Republic. I think we made that very clear today.”

“Yes. Your Jedi can add another notch to her belt of Emperors she has dethroned. That’s what, six now?” He seemed to swell with pride.

Theron winced; it was not the kind of praise Rossa would want to be given. She had gone through a lot to secure an alliance with the Sith Empire. With Acina’s death, there was a good chance the Sith Empire would take this as an excuse to renew their war against the Republic again and now against the the Eternal Alliance.

The conversation was not going to improve especially if they were going to keep discussing Rossa. Theron decided to just circumvent the whole damn thing and began to walk away without a word. There was already too much on his plate; the last thing he needed now was an awkward discussion about his romantic prospects with his estranged father.

“Jedi are hard to love. They operate on a different set of rules than we do,” Jace called after him, “Just be careful.”

Yep, the conversation definitely wasn't going anywhere he wanted it to. He didn’t even bother to turn to Jace when he snapped back, “Rossa is not Satele.”

Theron would be lying if said he never once considered what would happened if they repeated the same history his parents had by producing a child. Precautions had been taken but he was sure his own parents had taken them as well. He knew with certainty that if Rossa was to ever have children, she would do what was actually best for them and not be so apathetic to place reputation and an abstract ideal of the greater good over those she was responsible for.

As for them having children together, planned or accidental, it was a meaningless topic for him to think of now. Soon Rossa would see him for the bastard he was. And should he manage to help the Eternal Alliance get out ahead of the Order of Zildrog, he wouldn’t deserve to stand by her side any longer. 

* * *

In the dark cool sanctuary of her quarters Rossa reviewed the briefing Lana had sent her. The hunt for the traitor among them was making little headway. Lana had theories but nothing solid she was willing to pursue just yet.

Rossa sighed; a saboteur hunt was not how she thought she would be spending the days after the fall of the Eternal Throne. She had hoped for a year or two to heal and recover in some kind of relative peace. But more than that she had hoped for a few halcyon days with Theron. As it was, she had barely been able to spend time with him, since he had buried himself in his work. As his Commander, it was admirable. As his girlfriend, it was frustrating.

As if summoned by her thoughts she heard the door to her room hiss open. She didn’t even bother to turn; she knew exactly who it was. As Theron’s arms wrapped around her waist he placed his chin on her shoulder. Putting down her datapad to hug her arms over his, she melted against him. She could not describe how good it felt to be held by him. It was as if a warmth sang all the way down to her bones. It was unlike anything she had felt before.

A kiss on her neck sent a shiver down her spine. She could feel his lips smile against her skin as he planted more downward towards her shoulder. They swayed softly together as she tilted her head to the side she gave him more access and he hugged her tighter against him. His lips moved to the base of her neck where he knew it never failed to make her toes curl and a moan escape her lips.

“It’s good to see you too,” she breathed out as his fingers ran along the hem of her pants.

With a tug he pulled her shirt from her pants and sent a hand up to trace her rib cage teasing along the underside of her breast. Then back down to slowly caress the outline of the muscles of her abdomen. Returning back up to run his hand over her bralette. Making her nipples become hard and tingle.

“Not going to complain,” she shuddered as his other hand glided over her trousers and between her legs. “But is there an occasion I have forgotten?”

“Nothing like that, I was just thinking of you. How I have been neglecting you,” his voice was strained against her ear. “How good it is to touch you. To kiss you. To hear you moan.” Each sentence he punctuated with a kiss.

His fingers pressed hard against the growing dampness between her legs making her go onto her tiptoes and her back to arch against him. Stars, how quickly he had learned how to play her body like a xantha.

Her hand folded over his between her legs but he had other ideas. With a quick snap he undid the fastenings on her trousers. Taking her hand he slid both of their hands into her pants and over her sex, marionetting her fingers through the slickness there.

She gave him even more of her weight to support as her knees went watery. Her breath hitched and stars began to appear at the corners of her vision as both their fingers swirled and rubbed along her clit.

Without warning he took her by the wrist and pulled their hands from her pants. Her disappointed cry was silenced when he took her fingers one by one into his mouth. A long deliberate suck and a roll of his tongue almost sent her into a climax.

Against her ear he said her name like it was something sensuous, “Rossa, what do you want?”

“You,” her voice came out thick, “right here, right now. Stars, Theron, please.”

For a heartbeat she felt him fumble, the solid dominance he had been portraying dropped as she heard him whine out a swear under his breath. He recovered quickly sweeping her shirt up and over her head and tossing it out of the way.

Keeping her pinned against the table Theron moved back just enough for her to turn around. Greeting her face to face he kissed her hard and deep, need apparent on his tongue and in how his hands scrambled to undress himself. She pushed her pants the rest of the way to the floor. Kicking them and her sandaled shoes out of the way.

Grabbing her up by her thighs, he sat her up on the table. Rossa laid back and beckoned him with a curled finger to be on top this time. Again he had a different plan and knelt in front of her. Before she could sit back up he threw her legs over her shoulders and folded his arms over her waist, keeping her from moving. With one hand he reached between her legs to part her folds open and gave a hard long lick with the flat of his tongue.

The pressure of his arms on her waist was the only thing keeping her hips from rolling up. She clapped one hand over her mouth as the other gripped the edge of the table desperate for something to hold onto as Theron began to feast upon her sex.

She lifted her head just enough to see his head bobbing between her legs. His eyes closed as he enjoyed her. Each stroke of his tongue brought a hardening warmth to her core that was so very close to spilling over. His eyes opened and he captured her stare with a wicked glint. With that she was undone. She howled his name into her palm and threw her head back.

Rossa was still shaking from the afterglow as Theron stood and leaned over her. From somewhere she pulled enough strength to drape her arms over his shoulders. He cradled the back of her head in his palm instead of it resting on the hard surface of the table. The pride in his smile told her he was pleased with himself at how he had rendered her into languid euphoria.

As he leaned his weight on her, she was reminded that all their attention had been spent on her. Despite her body being well care for she wanted to return the favor as she could feel the hardness of his cock between her thighs.

“Stay here or do you want to move to the bed?” Rossa ran her fingers through his short hair.

Theron gave her a laugh, “I think sex on the table successfully completes our tour around your room.”

“You're right, war table then?” she joked.

He laughed out loud. A sound that warmed her heart to hear. With the looming threat of a traitor in their midst, Theron’s mood had darkened as he had settled into a fervent workaholic state as he spent hours bent over reports, research, and one by one interviewing every member of the Eternal Alliance. To see him relax with her was everything.

It didn't take him much effort to lift her up into his arms. He took a couple steps towards the door. Enough to make her doubt he was kidding.

“Theron!” she squirmed in his arms.

He gave another amused laugh before turning back towards her bed.

There he laid her onto the grey sheets so sweetly. They took their time making love. She sighed as his hands ran over her valleys and curves. Smiled at his lips on the pulse of her neck. And sang a joyful note to the darkness as his deep long strokes inside her brought her once again to the door of bliss.

It wouldn't be until after their mission on Umbara that Rossa would recognize this night for what this was. That his kisses had been a bittersweet goodbye. His hands caressing her skin were a pleading apology. That this night was what he had wanted her to remember him by. A farewell to the person he loved most in this galaxy, whom he'd long since decided he would do anything for.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly suggest to read the Copero short story from the swtor blog. I make a slight reference to it. It’s not necessary but it does give a bit of context.

Every word that had spilled from his lips had made him sick. Theron knew it would hurt to hiss accusations at Rossa but he never expected it would feel like sinking a blade into his own heart. Unfortunately, he had run out of time and a choice had to be made. 

The purple sky of Umbara gave way to the black of space as his ship left atmo and Theron desperately tried to still the shaking in his hands on the controls. He took long deep breaths to keep from hyperventilating but it was starting to become a losing battle as his heart shattered within his chest. For the first time in his career as a spy it had taken everything he had to not break his act. For the first time he had hated himself for it.

_ I’ll always love you, Theron! Nothing will ever change that! _

By every star in the universe how was she still able to say that, even after all he had said and done? Rossa was ever so compassionate, so loving; he had known that. Nothing he could do would ever change her and for that he was grateful. 

Without fail she never forgot to reach back for those being left behind even if they would never be grateful for her kindness. The Jedi could never take full credit for teaching her that endless supply of compassion. That was all hers: his sweetheart, his love. No longer his anything. 

Once he had given her his traitorous manifesto, he had left her on that train with just enough time to escape out the direction he had provided. But he shouldn't have looked her in the eyes when she had shouted she still loved him. For a moment his resolve had faltered, he had almost let the truth slip if it meant easing her suffering. Turning around and walking away from her had very nearly been impossible.

Part of him wished she had been angry, had spat at his declaration of treason. Anger he could understand, it was an old familiar stomping ground of his. Had he been in her position he knew exactly how he would have reacted.

If only things were different, perhaps they could have stolen away in the night a long time ago. Before all of this had started. Before the Eternal Alliance, before Zakuul, before she was imprisoned in carbonite. He could have made them disappear so that no one would ever come looking for them. Yet would either of them have been willing? Six years ago would he have left the SIS; would Rossa have left the Jedi? 

The answer was no. They had both been addicted to victory, vehement about their roles in the Republic. The SIS was something he had taken for himself. Something that he could claim as all his. He had gotten his position with his own skill. A path on his own terms. 

As for Rossa, the Jedi was all she had ever known. With them she had a place, a purpose. Being a Jedi was a singular defining existence. It had been her job, her home, a way of life from the moment she woke up in the morning to when she went to sleep. Theron knew exactly what it was like to try and redefine his life after he left the Jedi. The feeling of being cut loose and the meandering he had gone through. He doubted back then she would have given that up for him.

It had taken Theron almost losing her time and time again to realize how precious it was to hold her in his arms, to tell her he loved her and for her to tell him in return. But once Arcann’s hunt for her had begun it had become far too late for the both of them to escape this conflict in good conscience.

This was nearly too much to bear and it was all his fault. He almost hoped she never would forgive him but he would not stand by, not when there was something only he could do to help her. So he made himself look her in the eye and pretend he wouldn't do anything for her. Destroyed what they had built together and break her heart so he could save her.

Even if he managed to make it out of this deep cover operation alive, he would probably be ruined after this. The SIS and Eternal Alliance wouldn't trust him afterwards. The Empire would probably kill him on sight. Stars knew he had given them enough cause to do so. He would be a hunted man for whatever remained of his short life. But he had made a promise; he would do anything to protect her.

From his pocket he removed the holoprojector he had kept for years and flicked it on. A tiny holo of Rossa appeared, the small one he had taken from her dossier. The same one that had inspired him to write a letter to her while she was in carbonite all those years ago.

Taking one last look at her image, he made sure to commit to memory every line on her face, recalling the way she laughed when she was happy, the electrifying touch of her fingers on his skin, the comfortable silence they had together when words were no longer needed.

_ Never forget, _ he begged himself.

“I’ll always love you too, Rossa,” he whispered and deleted the image.

* * *

All Rossa could do was hold the shattered pieces of her heart and try to understand where she had gone wrong. Stars, she cried. She cried until her throat was hoarse, her head pounded, and her stomach was in knots.

Outside of her quarters she could feel Lord Wrath, Lucwayn Tal Sivron, storming up and down the halls. What exactly he was doing besides patrolling like an angry akk hound she didn't know, nor care. While she wept, Lucwayn was being angry for her. 

“How dare he do this to you! To the Alliance!” followed by a dozen colorful expletives Lucwayn had shouted when her and Lana had returned to Odessen without the third member of their triumvirate.

Theron had been wrong; if he had told her how he felt she would have listened. He would never have had to resort to such extremes against her. If he, of all people, felt she had lost control of her command, she would have stepped down in an instant. Being the Alliance Commander was not so important to her that she would have clutched onto it until she corrupted herself and it. She would have handed the Alliance over to whomever they agreed was best. The two of them together on a shuttle heading to anywhere was much preferable to this.

Vette had been invaluable, coming to her quarters to comfort her. She rubbed endless circles on her back as Rossa wept into her pillow, “He’s just a big jerk. There was no way you could have seen this coming.”

Her former Masters would have disagreed. For most of her life the dangers of attachments had been drilled into her head. She almost could hear Master Orgus telling her that she had allowed her emotions to compromise her; let herself become blinded by love.

Yet deep down she knew they would have been wrong. Love, real love, could save you. Inspire you to be better than you were. Lift you up to achieve great things. She had truly thought that is what Theron and she had. 

Despite everything that had happened she knew she loved Theron. She hadn't lied to him or told him that just to try one last time to stop him. She would indeed always love him. The memory of everything Theron had ever said to her, every moment they had spent together screamed at her that this was wrong, a bad dream, anything but the truth. Surely he never would have held her so gently, kissed her so fondly, told her he loved her so deeply if this was what he would do in the end.

_ I would do anything to protect you; _ had that been a lie too?

Where had she gone wrong? What had she overlooked? How could she fix this?

Rossa had suggested to Lana that they might contact Jace or Satele but that was a weak starting point considering how distant his relationship with them was. No, there had to be someone else she could go to that might help. Her thoughts went to someone that she had overheard Jorgan and Theron talking about once before. A mutual friend of theirs.

She rubbed the tears out of her eyes and said “Vette, would you mind giving me some time alone?”

Vette gave her a reassuring smile, “Of course. If you need anything just yell.”

Taking a deep breath Rossa steeled herself. She would get to the bottom of this. Climbing out of her bed she straightened her jacket, redid her makeup, fixed her hair, and went to work.

* * *

Nar Shaddaa hadn't changed much since Rossa had first set foot on the moon. Little Coruscant was another name for it but that wasn't entirely accurate. At least on the surface Coruscant was civil, structured, and orderly. Nar Shaddaa was wild and twisting at every level. Knowing her fellow Jedi would have disagreed, she had to admit she liked Nar Shaddaa. Just as she liked the lower levels of Coruscant. It felt so alive like a dancing heartbeat wrapped in neon. Stepping off one’s ship one was assaulted by exotic smells, a riot of different kinds of music and languages, and every kind person one could dream of. A microcosm of the larger galaxy for all its good and ill combined. There was opportunity here and so much to do and see. It was practically bursting at the seams.

Years ago she had first come to this planet as a Jedi; in her hooded brown robes with her padawan, Kira, at her side. Despite the mix of cultures and people, a Jedi still stood out on a Hutt controlled world. A not entirely welcome order of law in a world of chaos. Today she hadn't come to Nar Shaddaa as a Jedi, just herself in plain clothes. She made her way through the streets without so much as a head turn or a whisper behind her back. Just another unremarkable person in a sea of those far more interesting than one lone human woman. 

It was too early in the evening for the cantina to be busy but Jorgan had insisted his contact would be there. Cantinas on Nar Shaddaa did not differ too much from ones in the rest of the galaxy. Some were more upscale, catering to powerful Hutts; others to the more common, and others were complete dives. Yet certain elements remained the same; dimly lit rooms with neon trim, the choking smell of alcohol and smoke, live dancers or at very least a holo of one, and a band playing in the corner. No band at this one at the moment, just an empty stage. The lack of music amplified the silence to the point that a clink of a glass was cacophonous.

Her training kicked in: she stopped and surveyed her surroundings, made a mental note of all the exits, all the blind corners. As she thought the bar was almost empty. Only one waiter on duty: a young, slim mirialan man. He moved between the three occupied tables setting down fresh drinks, plucking up empty glasses. The patrons she could see were rough looking individuals. One’s head was lain in his folded arms, probably passed out. Another was contemplating her drink with distant eyes. And the third read from a datapad as he took shots, his feet propped up in the chair next to him.

The bartender stood at the counter absentmindedly wiping down glasses. He gave her a nod as she walked in, “Sit anywhere you want.”

Walking around the bar she found the more secluded tables. They were partially walled off from the rest of the cantina with curtains that could be drawn for more privacy. Ideal spots for those with business deals who did not wish to be overheard.

Rossa found the one she was looking for, complete with the man Jorgan had suggested she meet. He was a human male, groomed in a matter to make him fit perfectly into the environment he was surrounded by; tousled dark hair with a enough facial hair to tell her he hadn’t bothered to shave that morning. He could have been just another slurry ship captain who might get offended if you had never heard of his ship before. It was all a carefully crafted visual. SIS spies were nothing if not adept in keeping a casual demeanor.

While he was taking a long drink from his glass as she slid into the booth bench across from him.

Jonas Balkar sat his nearly empty drink back down and gave her a nod with a playful smile, “Would you look at that; just as I about to order another drink and along comes a lovely woman to share it with. What more can I offer you?”

Rossa interlaced her fingers in front of her on the table, “I’ll take the drink but it’s information that is most important to me.”

His smile only broadened, “I could be important to you.”

My, he was brazen. She suddenly understood why Jorgan had scoffed when she had asked him about Theron’s contact within the SIS.

She flashed him a smile in return, “I should hope so. Important people have important information. My name is...”

“Names won’t be necessary,” he interrupted. “You like music? I love music.”

Before she could answer Jonas slid out from the booth and went to the jukebox in the corner. He dropped a few credits into the machine and programmed in his selections. Silent for a moment, then a few too many moments. Jonas slapped his palm against the side of the jukebox and the lights flickered on as the music wirled up. Audible groan came from one of the patrons, who heaved himself from his seat, paid his tab then left.

The bartender stared daggers into Jonas’ back as he return to the booth with loud cheerful music filling the silence of the bar.

However, there was something more, an undertone that Rossa would not have been able to pick up without her heightened awareness thanks to the Force and her more recent introduction into SIS field equipment. A jamming signal disguised under the music. She raised a curious brow at Jonas as he settled into the booth.

“I know who you are and I can probably hazard a guess why you are here. Your broadcast made quite a stir with friends of mine,” leaning back in his seat he examined her as he took another long drink. “Of all people, I never thought he'd get sweet on a Jedi. Yet here you are and, I think I see why he likes you.”

That gnawing on her heart suddenly hurt again. Then what had made Theron turn from her? There were pieces she was missing from her understanding. Pieces that were keeping her from seeing the whole story.

“Do you know where he is?” she asked.

Jonas shook his head, “I don’t know but that is the wrong question to ask and I think you are more clever than that to even ask it. For a Jedi you are thinking about this far too emotionally.”

Rossa’s back stiffened but she didn’t let herself become offended. He was right. She was better than this. Where, wasn’t important, not yet anyways. Where wouldn’t get her any closer to understanding Theron’s motives. If she knew his reasoning then she could anticipate where he was going before he got there and could cut him off.

“Why did he do this?” she rephrased.

“There you go,” he gave her a wink. She waited, “I don’t know.”

Now she really understood why Jorgan had scoffed. However, she couldn’t help but smile as she imagined how him and Theron even got along, “Then can you help me figure out why?”

Setting down his glass he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “I’m not entirely surprised that you showed up. Not after the package I got with your name on it.”

Rossa froze, “Package?”

Jonas lifted a parcel from where it was hiding on his side of the booth and passed it over to her. As she pulled it in front of her, she noticed the seal was broken. She eyed Jonas.

He gave an apologetic shrug, “Sorry, I opened it after scanning it for explosives and chemical traps. Habit from a lifestyle of being paranoid of packages left on your window seal.” 

Cautiously, she peaked inside before pulling the lid back. Confused and heartsick she raised the red leather jacket from the box. Theron’s favorite jacket. The same one he had been wearing on Umbara.

“I already checked it for tracking devices. You are free to double check,” Jonas said.

Rossa closed her eyes and called on the Force. All Force Sensitives had their different strengths; she had a stronger than normal affinity for technology. If there was anything tech wise on the jacket she would feel with the Force the electric current. As Jonas said there was nothing.

She examined the jacket in her hand. Therein laid a heap of mixed feelings. She had no doubt that Theron had left the jacket for Jonas to find and pass to her. Raising it closer to her face she took a deep breath. That was a mistake. Still clinging to the leather was Theron's scent. The faint hint of his soap and favorite cologne mixed with the familiar scent of his skin. A whole new set of tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to show Jonas her at her most vulnerable. It took a moment but she managed to compose herself. To his credit Jonas pretended not to notice.

“There is a note in the pocket.” Jonas continued, “I left it like I found it. Maybe it will make sense to you.”

As he said there was a folded piece of paper in the right hand pocket. She examined it. There was just a list of numbers written on it, “26912418157.”

She shook her head, “I don't know.”

Coordinates, an address, or some kind of coded message, she thought. 

“A reckless fool our mutual friend might be, but he isn't careless,” Jonas offered. “Whatever that means he meant you to find it.”

Stilling her mind she thought back on her relationship with Theron. Looked past the flirting and the physical intimacy that had come with it. Truly thought about the things he had done and said before the Alliance had overthrown Zakuul, and before they had worked together to bring down Revan.

They had met when the Revanites had played a strong hand against the Republic and Empire. Theron had conspired with her to investigate them, to stop them. He had been able to see the truth behind Colonel Darok’s actions. Now he was acting as the Revanites had done, this time to her and the Eternal Alliance. None of this made any sense to her.

Theron was a spy. His job wasn't just slicing and hacking into computers, he could just as easily manipulate and influence others. When the Alliance was in its infancy he had came to Odessen to give his skills to her benefit. Though they disagreed a few times on a course of action, she had always listened and valued his counsel. Yet he claimed if he had tried to come to her, she would have talked him down; it would have been untrue. If she realized she had lost her grip on the Alliance as he said she had, she would have begun dismantling it herself. What truths had he told her and what had been manipulation?

Theron had his flaws and his strengths just like anyone else. She had loved him for both. Perhaps when he had been younger he had been an angry youth but with age it had turned into disappointment. There was now almost a sadness and wistfulness that he had carried within himself that she had only witnessed in the briefest of moments. 

As for their relationship on a romantic level, the flirting had been so easy. Mutual attraction had been shared from the beginning. Maybe had things been different they would have just become lovers and drifted apart when duty had called them away. Yet she remembered after Ziost, something had shifted. Their talk in the SIS office on Carrick Station, Theron had allowed her to witness a softer side of himself as he had mused about his hopes and dreams of childhood. The moment had left her at a loss for words. She had scarcely been able to imagine Theron being wistful or sentimental about anything. 

Then years later when they had been reunited after her imprisonment, it had been a learning experience for the both of them. No longer did they have to keep their affair hidden from the eyes of the Jedi. Neither of them would be called away to the other side of the galaxy for the Republic. Odessen had become home; they would always come back to it and to each other. They were finding what it meant to be in a relationship, to be in love. 

Rossa had only one concern when it came to being with Theron; he worried about her safety constantly. Every time she has thrown herself into danger she could tell it weighed on him. She had every intention to speak with him about it but the opportunity had never came up.

_ I would do anything to protect you,  _ his words rung in her ears again and for a moment she forgot to breathe as a thought began to take root in her mind.

Theories began to race through her mind as she began to rationalize what had happened. Theron was an ace shot yet after he had shot Lana with a stun bolt he had completely missed Rossa not once but twice, shooting out the window with one of those shots. The same window Lana and Rossa had escaped from.  _ Thirty seconds to impact _ , why tell her how long? He also hadn't taken all the crystals either; they had recovered enough to help with the effects on Iokath. 

_ A spy _ , Rossa almost shouted out loud,  _ Theron is a spy _ , as if it was the first time she truly realized what that meant.

He had lied to her. About what she wasn't entirely sure. By the Stars, what had he done? She glanced up at Theron's old friend. Jonas’ expression had changed from his original smug arrogance to something she couldn't read.

“Our mutual friend has always been prone to rash actions. Our boss liked to say he would choose to go through a window rather than a perfectly good door,” Jonas explained.

Blinking at Jonas she brought herself back to the moment and muttered, “That sounds like him.”

“I have to ask, what are you going to do when you find him?”

She didn't need to consider her answer, “Talk to him. Ask him to help me understand what went wrong. How to fix this.”

Jonas’ brow knitted in sympathy, “You know him, at this point probably even better than I do, but the person I knew was one of the best we had. He could be surly at times. But that one really did care about making sure things turn out right.

“Did he tell you he came to me looking for information to help find you?” he paused for a moment remembering, “Oh, almost four years ago. He didn't believe you were dead. He tried to lie to me about the real reason he was looking for you. It was obvious he was head over heels for you even back then.”

Rossa found it hard keeping eye contact. Had it been that obvious to everyone else? No wonder even Satele had known about them.

“Our line of work isn't for the faint at heart. We have to make hard decisions and still have to sleep with ourselves at night. It's our skills mixed with some luck that allows us to cash out even in the end. It’s hard, for us and those around us. And especially if we have the bad luck of falling in love. Makes us examine what’s important to us, if it's even worth it.”

She was silent for a long moment meeting Jonas heavy stare.

“It's worth it. It always has been, it always will be,” she said at last.

“If is means anything, I want you to know I’m sorry. When you find him, give him a knock on the side of the head for all of this,” Jonas raised his glass as a toast to her.

Rossa gave him a side long smile and stood from the booth, “Thanks, my new important friend.”

* * *

It had been raining for a good twenty minutes making the streets shine with neon lights and skunk from wet garbage. Fortunately, Theron had found a relatively dry place to wait. The overhang also allowed for ample amount of shadow to help obscure his presence as he watched the cantina’s front door.

This was a risk, one that he knew better than to take. Yet here he was, foolishly waiting unwavering. His earlier conversation with his contact Pova had made him sentimental.  _ When you know something’s right, you do whatever it takes _ , her words echoed back to him.

He didn’t have to wait much longer; Rossa emerged from the cantina stopping just short of going out into the rain. She looked skyward and caught a few drops in her upturned palm. Theron didn't dare move or breathe for fear Rossa would sense his presence. Getting this close was reckless.

She pulled his jacket over her shoulder. It was too big for her. His shoulders were far broader than hers. It swallowed her arms, but she shoved the sleeves up to her elbows and turned up the collar. For a moment she paused with the collar held up around her face. It was hard to tell from the distance but he could have sworn unshed tears glimmered in her eyes.

He turned away, blinking rapidly at his own stinging eyes.

When Theron glanced back up she had stepped into the rain taking hurried steps back towards the direction of the space station. He watched her disappear into the misting downpour and waited several moments longer before daring to step from the shadows.

_ You'll figure it out. I know you will, _ he silently told her. She was as clever as he was. He wouldn't have risked passing her the note if he didn't believe she would start putting the clues he had left for her together. 

Entering the humid darkness of the cantina, he grimaced at the obnoxious music playing on the jukebox. Who in their right mind had that kind of musical taste? Trying to ignore it he went to Jonas’ table and quietly he slid into the booth across from him. His old friend sat down his datapad and gave him a glare as he raised his glass to his lips.

“You're an idiot and I hate your hair,” Jonas said over the rim of his glass.

Theron gave him a stony unamused stare. Jonas knew just as well as he did that changing one's appearance for an assignment had little to do with personal preference and everything to do with blending in. It was standard practice for undercover work. The comment was solely meant as a jab to throw him off balance. 

Their friendship was an odd one to be sure. Born probably more out of mutual careers and years of knowing one another, but there was still a level of compatibility and camaraderie. Theron was not sure if it was a friendship or a rivalry at this point. Yet he couldn't deny he trusted Balkar with his life. They might bite and bicker at each other but still somehow could go out for a drink afterwards. Not unlike the relationship he had with Lana. Formerly had with Lana. She was probably out for his blood for Umbara.

“It's not for…” Theron started.

“Bet she won't like it either.”

For the first time Jonas’ comments hit a nerve. He wasn’t sure what came over him, but he was suddenly seeing red. Tightening his fists where Jonas could see, Theron managed to reign in his anger into a clenched jaw.

As glib as Jonas could be, he at least quickly picked up on the transgression and had the grace to look sheepish.

“Sorry, I…” he started, “look, I get what you are trying to do but was this really the only way? That girl is wild about you. She was practically in tears when I handed her that damn jacket.”

“I know,” Theron bowed his head. He really was the worst boyfriend in the galaxy. “If there was any other way, I would have done it.”

“You two have something there, buddy. Something not even quarter of people like us ever get to see. And you are just gonna throw it away?” Jonas lectured him.

There wasn't time to get into an intellectual argument with Jonas about love and relationships. He had to be brief, GEMINI 16 didn’t entirely trust him but neither was she watching him all the time anymore. And he was fairly certain she wasn’t watching Jonas. 

“Look I didn't come here for you to bust my chops. I need one last favor,” Theron interrupted him before he could continue. “If I don't make it…”

Jonas sat down his glass with a hard clink causing part of the liquid to slosh out onto the table, “No. Whatever you are going to say: no. You're not gonna come in here all sad and mopey and make me carry out some damn contingency plan of yours.”

Theron had to talk over him to continue, “If she ever needs it, make sure she has a voice who will be an advocate for her and the Alliance within the Republic.”

Jonas pressed his mouth into a thin scowl, “You're an ass.”

“I know.”

Jonas refilled the second empty glass on the table and passed it over to him. With a deep sigh Jonas raised his own drink as Theron mirrored his motion before they slammed back the shot together. It burned all the way down, hitting his stomach like a rock as he hissed against the taste.

“I'll look out for her. Don't worry. I already like her better than you anyways,” he was being bitter and exaggerating.

Theron gave him a tired smile, “Thanks buddy.”

Jonas gave him a dismissive wave of his hand.

As he got up to leave, Jonas said, “If you die, I'll climb down into Chaos itself and beat your ass.”

“Deal,” with that Theron headed back out into the pouring rain.


	4. Chapter 4

_ Damn it all _ , Theron screamed at himself as the shuttle pitched skyward away from Copero. Bracing his arm against the wall to keep from losing his feet, he was able to catch one last look at the temple entrance. Valss had engaged Rossa and the Chiss Ascendancy agent in combat. Theron didn't need to watch to know who would win. It had nothing to do with some rose tinted glasses he might have for Rossa. It was a simple fact that she was probably one of the most powerful Force users in the galaxy. Theron had been right by her side and witnessed first hand exactly why she had been named Battlemaster of the Jedi Order. 

Valss’ experience with the Force paled in comparison. He had been on Copero for years to hide his abilities from the Ascendancy whom saw the Force as repulsive. House Inrokini might have been able to give him martial training but they had not been able to quite show him how to apply those skills practically to the Force. As a result there was somewhat of a disconnect between the two disciplines, instead of using them in tandem. His control was wild and explosive lacking the fine honed control that a Jedi or Sith would have learned from their Masters. That didn’t stop the Chiss Force Sensitive from being pretentious and arrogant about his abilities. Showing off at every chance, as if he was trying to seek validation. Maybe it was Theron's background with the far more humble and restrained Jedi, but he found Valss to be asinine and had to fight the urge to roll his eyes when he talked about his prowess and Force visions. 

As he watched the duel below, Theron gritted his teeth. He better not get blamed for Valss foolishness. It had taken so Stars-damn much to get Vinn Atrius to trust him. And after everything he had done, he still remained on shaky ground. 

His love affair with Rossa hadn't been a secret to them. When Theron had finally gotten a face to face meeting with Vinn Altrius, GEMINI 16 had tried to convince the former Horizon Guard that Theron couldn't be trusted. She had played back recordings she had of him and Rossa together; intimate moments that were never supposed to be shared. It was infuriating and humiliating to have his face shoved in the fact all of their privacy had been meaningless. With some difficulty, he managed to swallow his anger and sharpen it for a later date. Provoking him into showing aggression towards them would have proved GEMINI 16 right.

There had been no way to deny their relationship. So he did the only thing he could do; bent the truth they had seen. Blend just enough of what was real with lies to make them accept that he could ever turn against her.

Rossa was good at one time, he had told them. After being separated from her for five years he had realized he loved her and it had painted his view of her, that he had not seen what she had become until it was too late. That she had changed when she emerged from carbonite; gone mad. Now she sought to bring the galaxy to its knees to complete her vision.

Lies and truth and lies.

Not that he would have listened but Marcus Trant would have told him he was too compromised for this mission. But the Alliance didn't have anyone better than him at espionage. He couldn't manipulate the Force since it had decided to skip over him. Nor was he very good at being a soldier. Standing on the front line in armor with a blaster rifle in hand had never been his calling. What he did find was he good at abstract thinking. He could deceive, manipulate, and sabotage. Being able to get past their enemy's defense was second nature to him. Those were the skills he had to help Rossa. And he would indeed use them to tear down the Order of Zildrog.

“We have to turn back!” the big Chiss next to him shouted to the pilot. 

“No!” Theron countered, “The information we have is too important to risk! Valss is buying us time with his life! He knew the stakes!”

For a heartbeat the Chiss looked like he might protest. Finally, he gave him a curled lip and backed down, retreating to the aft of the shuttle. Theron breathed out; he didn't want to try to figure out a reason to tell Vinn why he had left Valss to die as well as shoot an ally in the face. Hopefully, he would be more interested in the fact they had the device’s location than pointing fingers.

Theron's thoughts went to the data they had stolen from House Inrokini. Fucking Nathema, the Stars-damn device was on Nathema. It was probably the last planet he had ever wanted to revisit. 

Lana, Rossa, and himself had chased Vaylin to that Sith-cursed planet. It had been the origin of Valkorion’s power. Like with Ziost, which Theron had witnessed its destruction first hand, Nathema was a whole planet devoured over a thousand years ago to give that bastard immorality and had left one hell of a mark there. Lana had called it a void in the Force. While they had been planetside both Rossa and Lana seem diminished. They spoke of a waning connection to the Force; of numbness in their fingertips and sluggish reflexes. Rossa had explained to him it felt like all colors had dulled and that the Force had seemed like a distant song she had to strain to hear. Lana had explained that they would go mad without that connection. 

They weren’t the only ones who felt it. Being remind of his lack of connection the Force had always been something of a sore spot for him but on Nathema he could feel the hollowness of that place. An uncomfortable reminder that when there was no Force, there was no life. He was not looking forward to going back.

Taking his seat he strapped in and leaned his head back on the rest. Closing his eyes, he tried to organize his thoughts. Prepare what his truths and lies would be when he stood among even more dangerous serpents.

* * *

 

Back on the abandoned Imperial Listening post Vinn was pacing, his arms folded tight across the barrel of his chest. At his side was GEMINI 16, staring coldly at Theron as he approached. She almost made him miss SCORPIO.

At some point after the war with the Eternal Throne Vinn had converted the listening post to his own personal Zildrog clubhouse. He had made it his starting point to spy and plot against the Alliance. It was here he had collected every single one of their best kept secrets and had begun his plot to destroy them. It might have been impressive if it was not for Theron’s massively wounded pride at how outpaced he had been. 

“What the hell happened down there?” Vinn shouted.

Theron schooled his expression carefully. Lying was easy. Lying to a Force Sensitive, less so. Unlike Valss, Vinn was a former Horizon Guard; Vaylin’s hand-picked elite guard. They were zealous and almost as crazy as she was. Theron had confidence in his mental disciplines to resist mind probes but at this point he would be damned if he underestimated Vinn again. It was better to not give him a reason to try.

“Valss sacrificed himself so we could escape in the shuttle. The Commander was right on our tail,” Theron explained. 

“Izax take her,” Vinn swore. “Did you at least get the map?”

“Of course,” cool, calm like a snake; nothing to see but a valuable foot soldier for the Order of Zildrog.

* * *

Sleeping had become elusive. Some days Theron would only get a handful of hours. Most of the time it was because of the long hours he would pull doing work for the Order; or against them. Other times he lay in his bunk, utterly alone and riddled with guilt; knowing what waited for him when he closed his eyes. It was the same nightmare he kept having: lost in shadows and trying to desperately to catch up as Rossa walked into the inky darkness. He would run until his lungs burned and his legs gave out, leaving him on his hands and knees. And still she was always just out of reach until she faded into nothing and he was alone.

As it was every time he closed his eyes; as it was with this time. Desperation made him try something different. Collapsing to his knees he shouted her name. And again, she began to fade into the shadows. However, this time her steps faltered. And he felt the tiniest twinge of hope as he called out again; pleading. Reaching his hand out as far as he could he pour all his will into calling out to her. At the edge of nothing she began to turn back to him. Just as she made half a turn to face him, shadows coalesced and Theron jerked awake.

Gulping air, he swung his leg over the edge of the cot to sit up and smoothed his hands through his mohawk. Letting out an explosive breath he tried to find some level of composure. He felt more tired than when he fell asleep. Crossing the narrow quarters in half a stride Theron went to his sink, splashed cold water over his face and tried to ignore the knot in his stomach.

The soft chime of his holocom at his bedside told him he had a incoming call.

He cleared his throat and answered it through his implants, “Yeah?”

Vinn was on the other end, because who else would be calling him now?

“Theron, we're moving out today. Take care of the listening post. Make sure nothing remains,” followed by a dead signal. At least his calls were always short and sweet.

Looking up to the mirror his reflection stared back at him. Beads of water running down his face and neck. A tired man who was ready for this all to be over, to face the consequences of his actions. But first he would leave one final lead for Rossa and Lana to find. He knew she was closing in because Vinn was getting nervous and had accelerated their progress. If they kept this pace up, Theron would have to show his hand a bit sooner than he wanted to. 

He gripped the edge of the sink. Just a bit longer and he can finally shoot that son of a bitch in the face.

* * *

 

Rossa paced her quarters, an anxious slow trek from the door past the couch to the landing where her bed was at and back again.

The entire mission to Copero had left her with more questions than answers. The more she dug, the more Theron’s reason for betraying her stopped adding up. She had expressed her concern to Lana who had blown off her theory as more of Theron’s lies. She was beginning to worry that Lana's need for vengeance was clouding her judgement but then the same could be said about her on the other end of the spectrum. One of them was right and the other was wrong and damned if she knew which was which now.

A soft chime at her console told her she had a message waiting. At this point she almost feared checking her mail. It had been awhile since she had gotten anything remotely good news. Going to her datapad she found a message waiting for her from Hylo. She had been able to intercept a transmission from Theron to someone calming to be part of the Order of Zildrog. 

She had dealt with the Heralds of Zildrog before; a fanatic group that worshipped one of Zakuul’s old gods. Particularly the dragon god who devoured worlds. Whether the Order and the Heralds were affiliated or not, she couldn't say. What was odd was Theron’s involvement. While he might have been raised by a Jedi and still practiced some their disciplines, he was never pious or spiritual. Joining a doomsday cult to kill untold amount of people was exceedingly out of character for the man she knew.

The Force itched at the back of her head, drawing up her back. She turned to lay eyes on Theron's old jacket where she had laid it when she returned from her visit with Jonas. 

Crossing her room she rummaged through the pockets again to find the strip of paper he had left there. The random series of numbers still were no closer to making any sense to her but an idea was taking root.

Returning to her console she opened the ciphering software that Theron had installed there months ago. Even after everything, there were still echoes of his presence in her room. Half her armoire still contained his clothes. She didn’t have the heart to clean it out yet, despite Vette's suggestion that she could help her incinerate them.

At her console, Rossa plugged in the numbers and ran the cipher. It didn't take long for it complete, only a handful of minutes. Not a complex code. The numbers decoded into letters revealing a single word: Zildrog.

Rossa didn’t breathe for a second.

As quickly as she could she jerked the console forward she pulled out the cables connecting it to the mainframe. Once it was physically disconnected she wiped the hard drive. As she was done with that, she turned to the rest of her room. Going over every inch looking for any kind of recording devices. She cursed at herself as she practically tore her room apart looking for anything suspicious. 

Nothing. She stood in the middle of her disheveled room, mind racing. Was Theron trying to pass info to her? She almost could believe it. Or maybe she wanted to believe it.

“I need you to help me understand,” she whispered to the stillness of her quarters.

For a moment it was like she could feel him in the room with her. Like if she was to just lean back she would find his arms waiting to hug her close, felt the warmth of his skin. She closed her eyes trying to hold on to that feeling. 

A Force vision took her then; she-he was on a space station, he could feel the vibrations of the station’s engines through the soles of his boots. He turned to the companions with him, there was a deep well-hidden hatred that soured on his tongue. The anticipation of waiting for the right moment to act. A serpent coiling and ready to strike; swift and merciless. 

And past that: a sense of dread, of fatalism. An end that was inevitable made painful by a regret that broke his heart all over again.

In the vision his thoughts echo, “ _ I'm so sorry, _ ” as her physical lips mouthed the words.

Then like a door slamming in her face, Rossa was thrown out of the vision leaving her dizzy and reaching out for the couch to steady herself. She eased down onto the seat. 

With long, deep breaths she slowed down her hammering heart and hoped she wasn't wrong.

A few days later when Lana and Hylo briefed her on a signal leading them to a listening post she wasn't entirely surprised. 

Turning to go a presence at the corner of the briefing room catch her attention. Lucwayn stood watching her, in place of his normal arrogant persona he wore a solemn expression. When they had first met he had long since crafted this facade of the cruel Sith Lord he was expected to be. It had taken her a while to recognize it for the mask it was. His true face was a man of profound sorrow and humanity. Even if humility was still beyond him.

In the years following, Lucwayn had proven to be a rather odd Sith. To look upon him was to see everything that embodied what it meant to be Sith. The way he moved, the way he walked, the way he spoke, screamed of a power that was ready to be unleashed. While grey steady eyes watched for weakness of those around him. The perfect seeker and executioner of his former Master’s foes. The armor he wore was aggressive and dark. And when he wasn’t in armor, his clothes were tailored and refined, fitting his imperious nature. No one could deny he was the Emperor’s Wrath. Death personified or at least that was what nearly everyone in the Empire and Republic would assume. 

He hid his true intentions well. It spoke only of Lucwayn’s trust in her that she had been able to see beyond the trappings. To meet a man who cared deeply about a great many things. Who saw the injustice his people inflicted and vowed to work against it. Whose devotion to the Light Side was in complete contrast to the vestige he presented. The question that still remained was why he had trusted her to see the very thing that the Sith would have executed him in a very brutal and public fashion. 

Lord Scourge, the Wrath before him, had left the Emperor’s service because of the vision he had seen. Yet this Wrath had not spoken about any such prophecies he had witnessed. Nothing but offer his unwavering support. It was almost as if he had declared himself her Wrath. 

“Commander, allow me to go in your stead,” Lucwayn offered with formality and the slight bowed head.

A knot formed in her stomach at the idea of sending the two Sith without her. Who or what waited for them at the former Imperial listening post was a mystery and she couldn’t entirely explain the subtle pulling she felt to go there for herself. Like a thin thread was tied to her finger. She knew it would be a mistake to send Lucwayn and Lana. Rossa had found that both Sith were potent allies and she trusted them completely when she needed a fortress stormed or a battlefield conquered. But in this case enemies clung to shadows and allies were hard to define. Right now she only trusted her own much more deft touch for this incredibly abstruse affair. Not a juggernaut who would raze it all to the ground. 

She gave him the best smile she could manage, “I appreciate the offer Lucy. But I want to investigate this myself.”

He push his tall figure off the wall, “Then I will go with you and Lana.”

Again, another bad feeling, “No, I need you here if anything goes awry.” He made like he would argue her decision so she quickly added, “That’s an order.”

She thought that perhaps he would become angry, instead there was something not unlike lamentation in the look he gave her, “As you will, Commander.” 

There was something left unsaid, she could feel it and see it in the tension of his jaw. But she made her stride long and quick as she headed to the shuttle that would take her and Lana to whatever hard reality she would have to face. 

* * *

 

Nathema; it was somehow fitting that they would return to this place. They all met because of the woe Valkorion had caused in his previous incarnation. Zildrog was what had helped him ascend to power and was the last loose end to tie up. To end where it all had begun centuries before they were born. 

The planet had changed since they had been here last. With Valkorion truly dead, the Force had returned and filled the void like rainwater filling a dry riverbed. Standing planetside no longer felt oppressive, more like new life springing up after a wildfire.

Lana and Rossa had followed the coordinates from the listening post to a secluded area and found Theron waiting for them. After months of being apart he stood before her, surrendered. Lana had put herself between them, a protective bodyguard and friend not letting this “traitor” get too close to her.

With a deadly Sith right in front of him, Theron instead looked past Lana to speak directly to Rossa. He spoke of his good intentions, of his plan, of what it had cost him, of what she meant to him. Still a loyal member of her Alliance and a man hellbent to protect her.

Despite Lana’s promise to make him beg at her feet it only took a few words from Rossa to make her dear friend lower her weapon.

With all Rossa's hoping, it still came as a bit of surprise even to herself that she had been right about Theron. He really had been leaving a trail of breadcrumbs all the way to Nathema. It still didn’t negate the fact he had lied and purposely hurt her to get there. 

She wanted so badly to just completely trust Theron again. His skill as a spy had never come into question before. However, it was probably a bit of naivety that she never comprehended the lengths the man she had brought into her bed so many times would go to. Theron was a dangerous man. She had understood that. It was more she didn't realize the full scope of what that meant.

Rossa wanted to talk, needed to. She gave Lana a head tilt to indicate to give them a bit of space as they walked. The distance she gave them probably wasn’t enough for Lana not to eavesdrop but at this point what did it matter?

To his credit Theron immediately realized Rossa’s intentions to talk. He kept his pace so they could walk side by side and speak quietly.

“I realize you're angry with me,” Theron said, his tone soft. 

“I'm furious with you,” she confessed. Her voice was stern but there was an unlaying wobble to it. “I have never judged you for the things you have done. For doing what you had to do for the Republic, for the Alliance. But Theron, you lied to me.” 

He cringed and nodded, taking the criticism. “Rossa, if there had been a way to tell you beforehand, I would have done so.” She could feel the sincerity and pain in his words. But she had been on the receiving end of what he was capable of.  

“So instead you made me feel...” Rossa's voice gave out as she felt a lump choke in the back of her throat and squeezed closed her eyes to keep tears from spilling over.

Instead she had felt like her world had collapsed in on itself. For years now her greatest fear was that she would once again lose herself to the Dark. To believe Theron had turned against her because she had lost her way had devastated her. Made her second guess herself. To wonder if she really had gone mad.

Ahead of them Rossa noticed the ruined ancient wall they had been walking along was coming to an end in a blind corner. She raised her hand to signal them to go silent. Pressing his back the the crumbling stone wall Theron waited as Rossa crept forward, senses reaching out. Ahead was more jungle. Tangles of vines and trees but no sign of enemies yet.

“Clear,” she said to her companions.

Lana nodded and ventured forward first.

With his back still against the wall Theron said, “I swear to you; the last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you. But I did. If it had meant you would be safe and hated me, it seemed like a fair trade off.”

“Fair to whom?” she felt anger once again crawling its way up her spine. “Certainly not fair to either of us.”

To that he said nothing. Dropping his eyes from hers, guilt was eating him up. For a moment Rossa wanted nothing more than to hold him. To comfort and tell him she loved him despite it all. But the moment passed and he stepped around her to follow Lana.

Tabling this conversation was probably for the best considering how deep within enemy territory they were. To save whatever remained between them, they needed to talk, but intercepting Vinn and GEMINI 16 before they completed their plans was more important than salvaging their relationship. Hearts could mend once they were certain they weren't going to die. Still Rossa didn't like the thought of things being left unsaid. 

Theron kept a healthy distance from her, keeping at least three steps away from her at all times. At first she thought it was solely for her benefit, to give her plenty of space. But as they made their way through the fledgling wilderness and rocky terrain she began to wonder if it was for his own state of mind. Rossa had not failed to see how he had to stop himself from falling back into their old routines when out on missions together. The reassuring touches right before engaging in combat to let the other know they were ready and the checking to make sure they had succeeded unscathed. Now he kept himself just out of reach with a short nod to let her know he was ready to move out. It was awkward and painful. A sign that they may never again be the same as they once were.

That distance would prove to have disastrous consequences.

Too slow to act, she was too far away. Everything unfolded in front of her but she might as well have been a thousand lightyears away as much good as she was to stop it.

After confirming GEMINI 16 was dead she had wrongly assumed that Vinn was down. As she turned to try and aid Theron with shutting down Zildrog's kill command, she saw Vinn already upright on his feet, lightsaber pike in hand a matter of inches from Theron's back. He noticed far too late, barely turning his head before Vinn buried his lightsaber pike into his back.

White hot pain surged through Rossa's side, familiar to the trauma she had endured once before. Gritting her teeth she clapped her hand over her undamaged side. Lana's shout was distant as Rossa tried to compose herself. It was not hers, she reminded herself pressing through the phantom pain.

Righteous anger filled her lungs as she surged forward to meet Vinn on the field of battle. This would all end here one way or the other.

* * *

 

If he had been allowed to pick, Theron would have preferred a different way to die. With his line of work, chances had always been high he'd die in the line of duty. It had been something the SIS had made clear to their agents since day one. Working for the Alliance hadn't really improved that probability. However if it was going to happen, he hoped it would be quick and relatively painless. Everyone wanted to die of old age in a soft bed. But that was the dream of a different man who would have gotten to live a better life. 

Consciousness wavered through the pain but he heard Vinn taunting Rossa. Heard her voice ripe with rage. He had never see her angry before. Never heard her violently threaten anyone before.  
“I will tear you apart for what you did to Theron!” It was no idle threat. There was true fury in her voice.

From the ground Theron looked up at Rossa’s back. How she stood between him and Vinn: protective and vindicated. She raised her shoto ‘sabers in an aggressive stance. Rossa’s speed had always been her advantage. Quick as a snake strike. She used the rare ability of Force camouflage to vanish from her opponent’s view only to reappear a second later with a strike so precise it would make a surgeon jealous. Her movements were fluid like a ribbon in the wind and never wasted.

The deepest Corellian hell couldn't save Vinn from her now. If even the basic act of breathing didn't hurt too much Theron might have laughed. At least this time he got one good shot in.

Rossa would be alright without him, Theron thought. She was strong.  Outwardly she was so soft and gentle. It's only when you looked deeper would you see the titanium underneath. She is more than what you might expect, but everything you should.  Regardless, he was sorry for what he had done, sorry for hurting her and breaking her heart. Sorry for leaving her like this. Sorry that they would not experience a lifetime together. 

He had never believed in happily ever afters. Not for him, at least. But the cruelest thing about being with Rossa was that he had begun to believe that maybe, just maybe, it was possible.

Closing his eyes, Theron didn’t expect to open them again.


	5. Chapter 5

Theron's jacket was ruined. The lightsaber stab punched a hole through it into his back barely missing his lumbar artery by a kitten’s whisker. Getting him all the way back to the shuttle had been agonizing, Rossa had halfway convinced herself she would lose him on the trek. They probably had his implants to thank for his continual survival but she couldn't help but think that the Force had at least some part to play. 

The whole way he gave her barely coherent apologies. Rossa wasn't entirely sure he was aware of what he was saying as Lana and her took turns practicality carrying him. By the time they laid him face down on the shuttle's bunk, he had gone languid and unresponsive. As Lana got their shuttle airbourne, Rossa went to work administering first-aid. After a heavy dose of sedatives to keep Theron unconscious and out of pain, she had to cut his jacket off. The leather had melted against his skin from the heat of the ‘saber and a scalpel was needed to seperate the two. Rossa had seen far too many lightsaber wounds both on herself and others. But this one was indeed bad. Coming second only to the one she had sustained from Acrann. The one she only survived thanks to Valkorion’s interference.

With her hands covered in blood, Stars, she wished she had been blessed with healing abilities. 

It was not until she was sealing the bandage in place she noticed how much her hands were shaking. She tightened her hands into fists and breathed out. Theron was alive and stable and they would be able to get better medical treatment once they reached home. 

Rossa traced her fingers around the shell of his ear to bring it to rest on his back. The sedatives made it seem like he was resting peacefully but she knew from experience once they wore off, he would once again be in severe pain. 

Her wonderful, reckless, stupid love. Maybe it was naive for her to already forgive him for all of this. But she couldn't entirely fault him. Had he done much differently when they had gone after Revan on their own? Theron had been labeled as a rogue agent by the SIS back then. The difference this time was she hadn't been in on it. She was still upset at him for that major detail. They were together, partners, lovers, whatever one could call it and he had not told her his plan. She wasn't so apathetic to see what it cost him; that he had taken the only option he thought was available to him. True or not, his intentions were good. What was right or wrong was pointless now. This was the moment they had to move forward from.

A thought came to her, something she hadn’t thought of in years. Master Orgus had also lied to her, concealed things to protect her just as Theron had. Orgus had gone to face Darth Angral alone and Rossa had watch via holocall as he was run through by the Sith’s lightsaber. The similarities to the then and now painfully apparent. What would she have done had Theron had also died? The thought broke her heart more than any betrayal ever could. She shook the thought away. That was not what had happened.

Mindful of his injury Rossa tucked a blanket around him and went to the cockpit. Taking the copilot’s seat next to Lana, Rossa made a check over the controls and the flight navigation. From Nathema to Odessen on the fastest hyperlanes Lana could find. Home; all three of them were going home. 

The reality of that hit with a consuming relief. She suddenly couldn’t see the starline through the tears in her eyes. The tribulations of the past several months were at an end and now she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs. Hugging her arms around herself she curled in, unable to stop the sobs. 

Arms tenderly wrapped around her, pulling her into them. Rossa hugged Lana like she was the last solid thing in the galaxy. The Sith could wield terrible power but right now there was a kindness she reserved only for those closest to her. She didn’t try to stop her from crying, just waited it out until she was ready to speak again.

“Thank you for trusting me and having my back,” Rossa whispered into her shoulder.

“Of course,” Lana said. She didn’t try to pull away. Just remained as long as she needed her. 

* * *

 

Odessen medbay’s lights had been turned down low as Lana entered. Despite losing their entire fleet and the Gravestone, Theron was the only injured personnel. 

Lana was still angry at him but she couldn't deny she was partially relieved he was alive. They were quite the pair, a Republic spy and an Imperial Sith, a rather unlikely friendship. Yet here they were. She counted very few among her closest friends and two of them were sleeping here in the medbay. 

The Alliance physicians were keeping Theron heavily sedated for the time being. Dr. Lokin had said he had been extremely lucky and would make a full recovery but it would take time. 

A chair had been brought in and placed at his bedside at Rossa’s demand which she was currently curled up on sleeping. Her head rested in her folded arms and her legs were drawn up onto the cushion. There was no way she could be comfortable but she had stubbornly refused to leave her vigil. 

“Rossa,” Lana lightly touched her shoulder to wake her, “Commander, a moment of your time.”

With a sharp inhale through her nose, Rossa woke with a start. Blinking up at Lana then immediately over to where Theron was sleeping; she visibly relaxed when she saw he was still there.

As of a few days ago, Lana may have called Rossa naive and lovesick. And perhaps that was still the case. The three of them were such fools. Rossa, who was unwilling to accept the evil in people. Lana, with her unyielding certainty in what she believed was right. And Theron who threw himself into action heedless of the consequences. It had made for a rather explosive combination.

However, it was Rossa's unwavering ability to believe in people that had been able to trust Theron and not to simply strike him down when he had revealed himself at the meeting point on Nathema. In this instance, Rossa had been right about him when she had stubbornly refused to listen to anybody about Theron's wickedness. Maybe it was that naivety or maybe she had realized this was another one of his reckless calls to action. Whichever it was, Lana didn't lose one of her closest friends. Someday she would have to thank Rossa for not letting her burn that bridge.

“Sorry,” Rossa said rubbing the sleep from her eyes and turning back to her, “What did you say?”

Lana stepped back to give her room to stand and stretch, “I would like to speak with you. It’s nothing important I just wanted to give you an informal debriefing.”

Partially true; Rossa was no good to anyone, let alone Theron, sitting by his bedside day and night. A walk around the base would do her some good. Afterall, Theron wasn’t going anywhere in the state he was in.

With a nod Rossa stood and went to Theron's bedside. After checking his vital signs she made sure the blanket was in place before turning to follow Lana out. 

Honestly, Rossa's confession months ago that her and Theron were having an affair had almost been laughable had the circumstances not been so catastrophic. Lana was close to both of them and had watched them fall in love over the years. She recalled Theron's melancholy before they had found out Rossa hadn't died aboard Darth Marr’s ship over five years ago. Or his near panic when Rossa had gone missing in the woods trying to communicate with Valkorion. Or all the times Rossa had sought to spend time alone with him. Never mind her obvious attempts at no so subtle flirtation. Lana would have been more surprised to find out they hadn't been sleeping together. 

She had been happy for them. They seemed like a good match until Umbara. As mad as Lana was for her closest friend shooting her with a stun bolt, she felt for Rossa, who not only faced this as his commander and friend but also as someone who romantically loved him. 

After tending to Theron, Rossa gave her a nod and they walked out of the medbay together. Lana giving Theron one final look over her shoulder.

_ For the three of us, make this right,  _ Lana silently told him.

* * *

Waking was a jarring, surprising experience for Theron. Even more shocking was to find himself in a familiar medbay and not a prison cell. Odessen, he was finally back. He slumped back into the pillow and closed his eyes, letting that sink in. If he was here that meant the Order of Zildrog had been defeated and the Alliance survived. Regardless of what was in store for him, his self-appointed mission was successful and he would have to deal with the fallout.

Opening his eyes again, Theron looked around finding the room empty. No posted armed guards watching over him and he wasn’t cuffed to the bed. A fairly unexpected but a good sign.

A wave of nausea hit as he sat up, likely he had whatever narcotics they had him on to thank for that. He never cared for the dazed feeling he got from sedatives; however this time, there was little doubt he would be feeling a lot worse without them. 

Next to his bed he found a lounge chair that was foreign to the room with a light brown jacket thrown over its back. Rossa’s jacket. Half convinced it was a drug induced hallucination, he reached out and touched it on impulse. The soft leather felt real enough. Had she been sitting at his bedside waiting for him to wake up? After everything that had happened between them? After everything he had done? Or had she been personally guarding him making sure he didn’t go anywhere?

Tenderly he pushed back the covers and slid his legs over the edge of the bed. Testing his feet on the ground made him wobble but he did not wind up in a heap on the floor. Another good sign. He was getting downright lucky, he mused. 

In a bin next to his bed was left some of his clothes that must have been brought from his quarters. Another surprise that all his things hadn’t been burned in his absence. 

Raising his arms to slide his shirt over his head pulled at the bandages around his abdomen. Even through the painkillers he was reminded sharply of his injuries. Leaning back up against the bed he took a few deep breaths to wait for the lightheadedness to fade. There had been other occasions where he had managed to barely slip death's noose but this was probably the closest he had ever been. Definitely the highest stakes he had ever played. He moved a bit more gingerly as he finished dressing.

Finding the medbay door unlocked, Theron give a shrug to himself and decided to test to see how far he could get without being tackled by Alliance guards. However, as he limped through the hall he was only met by suspicious and curious stares. No one tried to stop him or call for a guard. 

That was until he meet the somewhat imposing form of Lord Wrath: Lucwayn Tal Sivron. The Sith blocked his progress, standing in the middle of the hall with his arms crossed over his chest and wearing an impassive, lofty expression. Lucwayn met Theron's defiant stare and matched it with a thin pressed smile that didn't reach his eyes. The bold red tattoos that carved over his lower jaw mixed with the gnarly scar from a throat that had been cut years ago. It made him a rather intimidating yet still undeniably attractive man. Precisely what he wanted people to think when they saw him. 

When Theron and Rossa had come to Manaan to investigate Colonel Darok, Lana had brought Darth Lucwayn with her to investigate Darth Arkous. Who else was better suited to hunt down traitors than the legendary Wrath. The Sith Emperor’s personal bogeyman tasked with making sure the other Sith toed the line. Theron had believed that Lucwayn would only served the interests of Vitiate and later Valkorion. However, he had proven time and time again to be a shocking exception to the Sith order. He wasn’t without his tenacity and indomitability, but it was his sense of justice and morality that set him apart from his cohorts among the Sith. And most surprising of all was his unquestionable loyal to Rossa and the Alliance. The former Emperor's Wrath now served as his Master’s executioner’s most loyal bodyguard. Much as his predecessor had also done. Rossa’s ability to inspire loyalty with Sith was a little uncanny to be honest.

As with Darth Arkous now the Wrath had come to deal with another traitor. Theron shoulders slumped slightly, “Are you here to detain me or derail me?”

“Neither,” Lucwayn’s artificial smile dissolved, “A confession of sorts since we're all finally being honest with one another. I didn't want Rossa to go with Lana to confront you. While Rossa somehow believed that there was more going on, we were certain of your treachery. Lana and I agreed, should you have left us no choice, we did not want to put Rossa in the position where she would have to strike you down. I'm not so cruel as to stand aside while someone is forced to personally kill the one they love. Without Commander Rossa’s knowledge or consent, I volunteered to be the one to do it.”

His hand rested on the hilt of his lightsaber. A sleek, black instrument of death which held a red crystal within it. Design and forged for killing just like the Sith who wielded it. Theron was suddenly acutely aware he was unarmed and alone in the hall with a very powerful and armed Sith Lord. Perhaps Rossa had actually been waiting in the medbay to protect him instead of guard him.

“Wow, gee, good to know. Thanks for the talk,” he probably shouldn't have been to sarcastic to the Lord fucking Wrath, but at this point what did he have to lose? They were too close and he doubted he could get a shout out before Lucwayn could cut him down. 

A smile twitched at the corner of Lucwayn’s lips and took a step closer. Theron fought hard to not take a step back and to his credit he didn't flinch when Lucwayn dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Rossa insisted on going to the listening post and forbade me and Lana from going together. We underestimated her. I underestimated her. I thought she was being naive for the faith she had for you.”

Theron’s fear turned quickly to guilt. “I’m not sure I deserve that faith.”

“Perhaps. But what matters is that she thinks you're worth it. Rossa didn't kill him, you know? Vinn Atrius, that is. He is rotting in a Zakuulan prison right now. I know I wouldn't have been able to do the same, much as I would like to fool myself. She wasn’t blind or compromised. After all that has happened, with her heart in pieces, she still possessed the clarity to know when to make the right choice.” 

Lucwayn gave him a sympathetic look. It was like a switch how the Sith went from imperious to temperate in an instant. Taking a step back and to the side Lucwayn inclined his head down the hall, “Try the hangar. I believe I saw her and Lana heading that direction.”

With a nod of understanding Theron hobbled his way towards the hangar. More than a bit relieved he didn't get cut down in the middle of the hall.

The hangar was emptier than usual. Most of the smaller craft that was stowed there was off somewhere and the usual personnel that haunted the area were cleared out. Theron couldn't hazard a guess why. But sure as Lucwayn had said, Lana and Rossa where there. Their backs were to him as they stood together on the loft speaking, not yet noticing his approach. 

With an inward “fuck it,” he heaved his way up the stair to their landing; ready to lay everything at Rossa’s feet for her judgment. 

* * *

Today was filled with major miracles; Lana had left them alone so for once Theron and Rossa could speak about what remained between them without an audience watching and judging. Too much of their affair had been aired in front of far too many people, mostly at his own fault.

Theron barely gave an upward glance as they had taken a walk together, just the two of them. The ground beneath his boots turned from the metal and concrete floor of the base, to soil and dirt, then to grass and wildflowers of the valley meadow that divided the base from the forest. He poured out everything to Rossa. Pulled away the blanket of lies he had covered himself in. He gave it all; his intentions, the nightmare that had followed him every step of the way, the loathing he felt for himself and the Order, and the regret that clung to him like tar.

Rossa followed along by his side, a silent sentinel. He only knew she was there by the sound of her soft footsteps. Not once did she interrupt, only listen to his confessions. 

He asked her to forgive her idiot, to which she was already willing to do. Maybe he had gotten off the hook too easily. Maybe they both were fools. But at this point at least they would be fools together.

As sincere as his last promise to protect her had been, he gave her another promise, one that he hoped this time would not hurt her as his previous one had. 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.”

What Theron didn’t expect was how quickly their conversation would shift after that. Her response caught him so off guard that he thought for a moment she was teasing. 

“Theron Shan, that sounded an awful a lot like a marriage proposal.”

Just like that, Rossa had laid down a challenge, in her clever way, if Theron had the guts to ask she already had an answer waiting. 

With his entire life feeling like running on a razor’s edge, asking Rossa to marry him had somehow felt like the greatest risk he had ever taken and the safest bet he ever placed. It all happened faster than he could ever have prepared himself for. Perhaps engagement by impulse was the only way for him to let himself drop his guard. Knowing her, he wondered if she realized that, hence the teasing challenge. Theron had never thought to ask Rossa to marry him. Never thought it would be within this realm of possibilities. Everything they were together had been of stubborn defiance of rules. Why would getting married not also be reckless and heedless of consequences? The only people they had to prove anything to was to each other. 

After considering Theron turned back to her filled with resolve right up until he opened his mouth, “Will you… you know?”

Her smile sobered with a bit of sympathetic mirth, seeing his nerve evaporate, “This is really difficult for you, isn't it?”

Of course it was! Stowaway on a Imperial ship to sabotage it in the middle of a battle and kill a Dark Consular Sith with literally nothing but a busted blaster? Not a problem. Getting intel on a Hutt resort world that was literally shaking itself apart? Done and done. But telling the person he loved how he felt? Nearly impossible. The intimacy had been easy, he had sexual partners before Rossa. None he had been even remotely this serious with. How simple it had been to just pretend like they were having no strings attached sex, while he secretly hoped for their next chance encounter to just be near her. How many excuses he had fooled himself with when he had made it a point to see her again. He had chosen to trust her, back when she had been a complete stranger with the biggest conspiracy the Republic had faced with the Ravenites. Chose her again to be his emergency contact when everything on Ziost had gone sideways. And finally chose to come running to her side when she had formed the Alliance. 

Feeling a bit like dangling on a hook, his voice came out tight, “Just marry me. Please?”

"When you ask like that, how could I say anything but yes!” There was the glint of joyful tears in her eyes and finally not because of pain he had caused her.

She smiled and his restraint waived. He found his feet moving him forward closing the distance between them hesitantly as if he was a man possessed. There might as well have been no one else in the galaxy by the way they looked at each other. There were inches between them now, yet his hand stopped short of touching her. If this was all another one of his nightmares and he woke now, he might go mad. 

She on the other hand was not content to wait for him, her hands cupped the side of his jaw line. Her hand felt warm and extraordinarily real.  

There was no denying how lucky he had gotten. Theron knew he shouldn't be alive right now, much less be accepted back into the good graces of the Alliance. But this was nothing less than a Stars-damn miracle.

Rossa’s hand twisted into the fabric of his shirt as she furiously hugged him around the neck. His own arms wrapped around her cradled the backside of her ribs, fingers twisting into the soft fabric of her shirt feeling the skin and toned muscles underneath. Giving himself into the moment, Theron buried his face in the crook of her neck as her arms tightened around him. He couldn't break out of her hold even if he wanted to. The familiar scent of her skin made his heart ache, as her warmth against him again made his eyes water. 

Home. She felt like home.

His emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

“I'm so fucking sorry,” his voice was muffled into her neck. “There was a man I wanted to be for you,” his voice was a whisper in her ear.

“You have always been that man to me. I love you,” she said softly.

He almost couldn't speak around the lump in his throat. It took a moment to swallow and try again, “I love you too.”

Pulling back, she wore a bright soft smile. Joy: pure and simple joy.

Her fingers trailed over the short buzzed hair on the back side of his head. The sensation sent a shiver down his back. With a clever smile she did it again, making him give a sharp intake of breath. Much more and she would come dangerously close to stirring something more within him. Which judging by the twinkle in her eyes, she noticed.

“Does that feel good?” her tone was light and mischievous as her fingers played their wicked dance across his skin.

Yeah, if felt good; really good. So much so that he was intensely aware of how close her body was lined against his. And painfully aware that they were in a field outside of the base and not in the privacy of a bedroom.

“Yes, it does,” his voice was tight.

“I like your hair like that. Are you gonna keep it this way now that you aren’t undercover anymore?” This time her fingers did a sweep from his temple, around his ear and down to his neck. 

“If you keep doing that, I think you could convince me to keep it,” he said with a kiss on the side of her neck. There was a bit of smug satisfaction in knowing Jonas had been wrong. 

Rossa kissed him then, soft lips and a gentle touch and he suddenly couldn’t get enough of her taste. The kiss built in intensity until he bent in just the worst way, sending a sharp pain through his back, reminding him again he was nowhere near one hundred percent.

Theron hissed and reluctantly pulled away as Rossa furiously apologized.

He shook his head and held his side. It would almost be hilarious if he keeled over right after getting engaged. “No, I’m sorry. I don't think I have anything left to give you tonight.”

Carefully she pulling him back into the circle of her arms as he leaned on her for support. “I’ll be happy to just be held.”

“That I think I can manage,” Theron said through a pained laugh. 


	6. Chapter 6

Stars, they were both liars; back in Rossa’s room, just being held hadn’t been enough to satisfy her. Rossa and Theron had found it impossible to share a bed together again and not let their hands wander. With soft, gentle caresses in the dark Theron brought her to a climax with his cunning fingers. Much of her studied composure had been needed to ensure she didn’t become too enthusiastic and make Theron's injury worse. Though their reunion might not have been as vigorous as she might have liked, she took solace knowing that it could be saved for a later date.

A wedding date, she happily mused to herself.

It was probably closer to dawn than nightfall when they finally found sleep. No longer just a lover or boyfriend but a fiancé gathered in her arms as she had drifted off to sleep.

Rossa let out a contented sigh as she slowly woke late the next afternoon. This was probably the latest they ever slept in. She should have gotten up with the dawn like she normally did. There would be new challenges that they would face now that the Alliance no longer had the Eternal Fleet and the Gravestone. But there was some much needed recovering that would need to take place for her triumvirate first.

She stretched her limbs and reached across to where Theron had slept next to her. Her hand touched only empty cool sheets. With a start of panic she shot up in bed, pulling up the covers over her nudity as she searched around the room. She was indeed alone. Theron's clothes were missing.

Quickly, she was halfway out of bed when her door slid open and Theron slinked in quietly.

“You're already awake,” he lingered at the threshold awkwardly. “I was hoping to be back before you got up.”

He crossed the room in a wide stride to come to sit next to her on the bed. “I was so hopped up on painkillers that I began to wonder if yesterday was a dream or not. Because how the hell could I have gotten this lucky?”

“Theron…” she started.

“Wait, before I lose my nerve,” he interrupted, taking her hand. “I wish I could let it go but I can’t. I don’t want to sound ungrateful but why? Why did you forgive me? Why trust me?”

She moved forward touching his temple running her finger around his ear to come to rest at the back of his neck. With a gentle pull she coaxed him closer to her. Likewise his hands came to cradle her: one at her elbow, one on her hip, a featherlight touch. She searched his face as his gaze remained steady on her eyes.

“Because I think we are both a mess. I didn’t wanted to admit it for the longest time. But this all lead to a lot of soul searching, about myself and you. I think we found something kindred within each other; for the good and all the bad. We are who we are. I don't want us to change. I think it wouldn’t be right. I fell in love with you for who you are. That you are willing to give everything to solve a problem. I know I have done the same. I love you, Theron. I want be with you every time you try to take on all the galaxy’s woes. And I want you by my side everytime I run headlong into danger. Never separate again.”

Several long moments of silence stretched out between them as he stared down at their joined hands, his thumb smoothed over her fingers.

He breathed out an short laugh, “Is that a vow?”

“I think it is.” She leaned forward until her forehead touched his. “But just to add, you have to let me in on anymore clandestine plans you have. A code word or gesture or something. Pretending to be a cannibal pirate on Rishi was way more fun than I ever had as a Jedi.”

To that he laughed, “Fine, but do we really have to compromise on you have to lay off giving me grey hair?”

Moving so that she sat with her legs partially going into his lap she said, “I dunno, a bit of grey would make you look rather dashing, I think.”

“Dashing, huh?” Theron gave her a lopsided smile.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a small box and held it in his lap. There was a subtle tremble in his hands that Rossa noticed.

“There is a reason I wasn’t in bed with you this morning. I woke up way before you did and was sitting here just thinking about you and I. But mostly about being engaged and that got me thinking about other things, like a wedding, and vows, and flowers, and formal wear, and guests, and everything else. So I thought, I need to start somewhere.” He opened the box showing her two golden rings. “I went down to the composite shop and had Yuun make two rings. For us. They aren't special just…”

Before he could say another word Rossa silenced him with a kiss. Pulling back, she plucked the smaller of the two rings out of the box and slid it onto her finger.

“When do you want to make it official?” she asked.

“Now,” he must not have realized what he said because he quickly corrected himself, “I mean, whenever you're ready.”

“Theron, I don't need a gown or flowers, a bunch of people watching, or anything like that. Just… the two of us. We can go when you are fully recovered. Then take leave for a few days. Go somewhere where we won't run into anyone we know. And just get married. Spend the rest of the time together.”

Theron arched an amused eyebrow, “You mean elope?”

She flashed him a mischievous smile, “Yeah, elope. You with me?”

Leaning forward and said against her lips, “Always.”

* * *

 

Warrson had lived on Denon his whole life and more than half of it had been been spent as a sanctioned Republic solemnizer. He had performed marriages for more than forty years and had only closed his doors when the Zakuul Empire had blitzed several districts of the city. Now the ecumenopolis was slowly recovering. There was still the telltale scaring; new construction, a recovering shell shocked population, and burn marks on buildings that had been lucky enough to escape the bombardment. Denon might be a Republic world but here in the Inner Rim they hadn't gotten the immediate relief that the Core Worlds had. A group calling themselves the Eternal Alliance had brought in some much needed aid back some months ago. Lucky for Warrson, his hole in the wall office had escaped damage.

In all his years he had seen all kinds come through his doors. Performed marriages for couples he knew would be filing for annulment in probably half as many days as they must have known each other. Had a blaster shoved in his face by a jilted lover who demanded to know why he had married their wayward ex to another person. He once even married a very inebriated man to a very ugly Hutt. At this point he had pretty much seen it all, so when a human couple entered his doorway he didn’t even bat an eye.

They were young, at least compared to him. Both tall and lean. The woman was lovely and poised with long pale hair she wore mostly down. The man had a cybernetic implant that curved around one eye. They were dressed nicely, not particularly fancy, not a gown and suit, but well enough for a formal occasion. The woman wore a short dress that mimicked the night sky: a deep navy freckled in golden specks. The man wore a red leather jacket and his boots shone like they were freshly polished.

Opening his arms he greeted them, “Welcome, so sorry. Perhaps you're early, I didn’t have anything on my schedule for the next two hours. Or are you here to make an appointment, or…”

The woman spoke first, “We’d like to just sign a marriage license. No ceremony necessary.”

“Ah, I see, I see,” he pursed his lips and gave her a nod. Bending down at his counter he drew forth a datapad and a stylus. With a few quick taps on the datapad he brought up the document and laid it on the counter facing them. “That will be no trouble. Just one thing though, would either of you be changing your name today? We can just go ahead and get it out of the way so you don’t have to do it later.”

The man froze like a ginx in headlights, going a bit wide eyed like he hadn’t considered name changes.

The lady was ready to step in again, “I am.”

Warrson slid the datapad in front of her and handed her the stylus. In a full sweeping signature she penned her name; changing it from Rossa Skyfall to Shan.

Taking the stylus from her, he slid the pad in front of the man and held out the stylus for him to take. But his attention was locked on her as she grinned at him. It wasn’t the first time he had seen a person lost in the sight of their very soon to be spouse. Warrson cleared his throat and wiggled the stylus at him, hoping to catch his attention.

“Oh right,” he blinked as if suddenly remembering where he was. Taking the stylus he signed his name in the line next to hers: Theron Shan.

“Alright,” Warrson signed his name at the bottom and tapped the key to submit the certificate to the Republic repository, making it legally binding. “Now are there any vows you wish to exchange?”

The couple exchanged glances and the man raised his bride’s hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles, “We already have.”

“Very good then,” Warrson took the datapad and returned it to where he stored in behind the corner.

Bewildered the man asked, “That’s it?”

The creases at the corner of Warrson’s eyes formed as he smiled at him. He had seen a lot of couples pass through his door but he knew love when he saw it; these two had it. A bit of the jaded years fell away as he remember what it was like. “That’s it. In the eyes of the Galactic Republic you are legally married. Congratulations.”

They quickly thanked him and hurried out the door, his arm around her waist as she leaned into him. Warrson waved them off before settling back into his chair and unmuting the holovid drama serial he had been watching.

* * *

 

For all their problems, sexual attraction had most definitely never been one of them. After leaving the solemnizer’s office, Theron couldn't wait to get Rossa back to their hotel room. On the taxi ride back, Rossa sat in the passenger seat half turned on her side so she could watch him drive. Her hand playing with the inside of his lap, making a sensual slide from knee to his upper thigh. He shifted in his seat and tried to focus his concentration on flying and not how good it would feel when she held his length in her hand.

Theron got even as they briskly walked through the hotel lobby. Pulling her close, he kissed her ear and whispered all the things he planned to do to her that evening. Her skin went hot under his hand and her cheeks to ears flushed pink. A shiver that ran through her as she wobbled on her high heels.

In the elevator they might have consummated their marriage right there had it not been for the person who got on with them on the third floor. They had to tear away from one another as they frustratedly waited to arrive at their floor. From there it was a mad dash down the hall to their door and a frantic fumble with the lock as Rossa’s hand was already finding its way under his shirt. Finally, they burst into their hotel room in each other's arms. Theron’s mouth on hers as he kicked the door controls to close and lock it.

They tried to make it to the hotel bed, really they did. But they ended up pressed against the wall just inside their room. Rossa’s dress pulled up around her waist and his pants shoved down around his thighs. Her arms and legs locked around him as he pumped into her. Finished, Theron sank to his knees to the floor, taking Rossa down with him to balance on his lap. She peppered soft kisses on his face as he tried to catch his breath.

One bad thing he had to admit about being with a Jedi, Rossa's stamina had begun to outpaced his. Stars, he wished he wasn’t pushing forty.

Standing, Rossa untangled herself from his arms and walked further into their room. Turning to him she untied the cinch on the waistband and tugged off the sleeves from her shoulders. The neckline was a deep enough plung that the dress easily slid off her body into a pile on the floor. Unashamed and confident in her nudity she stood wearing only the jewel that decorated her body and high heels. With a curled finger she beckoned him to come to her. To her he went and would always go willing.

With gestures, not words, she had him keep his hands to his side as her hands traveled under the hem of his shirt and up the solid plane of his stomach. Following her lead to raise his arms, she pulled his shirt up and over his head, tossing it haphazardly over her shoulder.

Rossa took charge undressing him the rest of the way, deciding the pace in which his clothes hit the floor. The heels she wore gave her the height to meet him directly eye to eye until she placed her hands on Theron’s chest. Maybe she gave a soft pushed backwards or perhaps he just let himself fall. Either way he ended up on the bed looking up at her. He brought himself back to a sitting position to admire her in the neon pinks, purples, and green lights of the city outside the large picture windows of their room.

Raising her leg up, she placed her foot between his legs. He planted a kiss on her knee as his hands teased a caress down her leg to the shoe, undoing the ankle strap and tossing it aside. She switched legs allowing him to unbuckle the other shoe. She stretched out her hands towards him and he pulled her into the bed with him. Laying beside him, she balanced herself up on her elbow, her free hand tracing over his skin as he held her.

Her eyes were soft as she said, “Husband.”

“Wife,” he said it as a whisper.

Theron rolled that thought around in his head. His wife. Rossa Shan. Now he really like that sound of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are very appreciated!


End file.
